


From G to E Minor

by whosays_penultimate



Category: Figure Skating RPF
Genre: 2014 Cup of China, Anal Sex, Cheating, Complicated Relationships, Cuddling, Injury, Jealousy, Light BDSM, M/M, Manipulation, Morally Ambiguous Character, Mother-Son Relationship, Oral Sex, Other Additional Tags to Be Added, Promiscuity, Rimming, Rivalry, Seduction, Symbolism, Teacher-Student Relationship, Underage Sex, Underage Warning Refers to First Chapter Only, Yuzuru Hanyu-centric, Yuzuru is 16 in the first chapter, Yuzuru's quest for perfection, negociated bdsm, no beta we die by vicious Pooh attack, the quad sal saga
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-05-19
Updated: 2019-12-01
Packaged: 2020-03-07 21:44:01
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 32,861
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/18881839
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/whosays_penultimate/pseuds/whosays_penultimate
Summary: Life is a journey through emotions.Like two sides of a medal, its beauty and darkness coexist simultaneously.Should we ever forget, art exists to remind us.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> *
> 
> DISCLAIMER, PLEASE READ:  
> This AU has several important differences from our universe:
> 
> This story takes place in a decadent environment where everyone is gay and everyone is fair game, so it requires suspension of disbelief.
> 
> The characters, or some of them at least, are corrupt, depraved, sinful, unprincipled, immoral, wanton, shameless. This does not reflect in any way the author's impression of their real-life counterparts. Like with any fic written ever, this story is in no way a reflection of the real-life people of the same names, only in a very loose sense of 'based of' kind of way. As I have absolutely no way of knowing their real-life personalities, there can be no actual similarity. I picked the people, imagination did the rest.
> 
> Also, since this is an AU, I have taken several liberties with real-life events: For instance: the 2011 earthquake did not happen. Notte Stellata is simply called The Swan, its music is the original by Camille Saint-Saens, and it is used as exhibition immediately after the 2014 Olympics, marking the transition from White Legend directly to The Swan. Oh, and Yuzuru somehow speaks great English! :) There may be other such differences.
> 
>  
> 
> Explanation of the title:  
> Title comes from the Imaginaerium movie. The transition from the chord of G to Em is considered the most emotional progression. G and E minor are parallel musical scales, like two sides of a medal, the beauty and darkness of life coexisting simultaneously.  
>   
> *

Stephane Lambiel had a skip in his step as he made his way towards the venue that morning. As he started to change in the dressing room while whistling under his breath, he caught the suspicious gaze of his long-time friend in the mirror.

“Why are you so chipper first thing in the morning, dear?” Johnny Weir inquired, with a narrow gaze. “I think the hour they’re making us get up for these rehearsals is absolutely _ghastly_.”

“Well....I went out last night, you know?”

“Uh-huh”, Johnny nodded, starting to carefully apply mascara. “Done anything interesting? Or _anyone_ interesting?”

“Not this time no, but I heard something interesting, from Dai.”

Stephane paused for effect, as he arranged his hair in the mirror.

“You know Yuzuru Hanyu, right? The young Japanese skater who positively adores you?”

Johnny nodded with a ‘don’t be ridiculous’-eyeroll:

“I’ve known Yuzu-kun since he was a little mushroom who wanted to grow up to be a pretty flower,” he declaimed with affectation.

“Well, I heard he’s about to change coaches”, Stephane went on. “His federation is insisting on him training abroad, and they’ve already narrowed down a few options: America, Russia, Canada...”

“Oh! That’s quite lovely! I love Yuzu-kun, he reminds me of myself, of how _I_ used to be at that young, tender age...”

“Dear, he reminds _everyone_ of you. That you are his idol – well let’s just say that’s painfully obvious to anyone who looks at him,” Stephane smirked, pausing while powdering his nose. “He’s a sweet kid, though”, he went on. “Anyway, this is exciting, don’t you agree?”

“Sure. At least until some old crone gets their paws on him, making him toe the line with boring costumes and boring music,” Johnny answered airily, tightening his corset and admiring himself in the mirror from all angles.

“Oh come now, Johnny, since young Yuzu is your protegee, surely you won’t allow that to happen....”  

“I have too little influence, and you overestimate my position in the skating world.”

“Always in need of reassurance, aren’t you, honey.... Or hungry for praise....”, Stephane rolled his eyes slightly, half amused, half resigned. “The skating world loves you, Johnny, you’re the ultimate queen, baby.”

“Oh, shut up”, Johnny playfully smacked him away, even as he grinned.

Then Johnny turned, and looked in the mirror at himself, suddenly serious.

“I hope Yuzu makes the right choices. Not like I did.”

 

~

The next day, it was Johnny who entered the dressing room late in a flurry of feathers and silk scarves.

“What is it, dear?” Stephane asked, wary of Johnny’s moods. “You look upset.”

“Hm!” Johnny reacted, as he threw his bag on the table. “I talked to Yuzu yesterday.”

“You did?” Stephane reacted, curiously.

“Mhm! God knows why! Out of some misguided attempt to be helpful, I suppose! Serves me right...”, Johnny sighed, dramatically.

“What happened?” Stephane asked, bewildered.

“That little brat! He – well, I started by telling him that I heard of his wish to change coaches and I wished him the best of luck and trusted he’ll make the right choice – I said that _meaningfully,_ you know, like he could _read into it_ if he so wished, you understand? And do you know what he said?” Johnny paused for effect, and Stephane had time to begin: “Wait, but, you-“ before Johnny interrupted him, impatiently, stressing every other word with a stomp of his boot: “Do. You Know. What. He. Said?”

“Well, _obviously I don’t!”_

“Well _he_ _said_ ..... and he said it with a nervous sort of excitement that positively made my flesh crawl - that he hopes his federation can be persuaded to let him train in Russia because there is _nothing_ he wants more than be trained by Plushenko, and _learn_ _everything there is to know_ from him and _be like him!_ Yes, the boy feels like learning from Plushenko is something he’s destined to do, it’s his most holy wish!”

“But does Plushenko even coach-“ Stephane put in.

“...Not a word about little old me, not even as an afterthought! He babbled about Plushenko all the way, how he adores him, how he wants to be like him, how he wants Plushenko to notice him- oh, it positively turns my stomach...”

“Hold on, wait”, Stephane interrupted again, his confusion merely increasing, “you wanted Yuzuru to ask _you_ to coach him? Then why didn’t you just offer?”

“I don’t – Okay, just listen!” Johnny replied, annoyed. “First of, I don’t want to coach him. But I naturally expected that since I am the number one source of inspiration in his skating life, me – me – me, and not Plushenko.... well.... I expected that he’d _at least_ consider _me_ first...”

“Ah I get it now, so it’s the wounded pride that eats at you. Well, yes. I see.”

“Do you?? Well then, you simply _must_ defend my honour, Steph.”

“Your honour?” Stephane laughed. “I wasn’t aware you had such a thing.”

“Don’t make fun!” Johnny stomped his foot. “This is awful!  

“My dear, I sympathize entirely, but what exactly can I do about that?”

Johnny pondered a while, a perfectly manicured fingernail brushing against his lower lip in a studied thinking pose.

“I want you to convince Yuzu that Russia isn’t for him”, he finally answered, with relish. “He won’t get to be trained by his ‘idol’” – Johnny aided the disdainful tone with emphatic air quotes – “Plushenko won’t be getting his star pupil. He won’t reap any undeserved rewards, _not this time_! Nor Mishin, or the rest of those pompous Russian bastards.”

“I thought you liked Russia....?” Stephane inquired, confused, then shut his mouth abruptly, as he suddenly remembered that Johnny was fresh from a messy divorce with a Russian man.

“Well? Your answer-?”

“Darling, you know I’m not averse to playing games, but what exactly am I supposed to do?”

Johnny laid a hand on Stephane’s arm, with a suggestive smile:

“Seduce him away! You’re good at this sort of thing!”

“Seduce him, ha! You give me too much credit! The boy has only one thing on his mind and that’s skating.”

“Well then, _you_ can be the one who offers to coach him! Just dangle the opportunity to learn all those fantastic spins of yours, under his over-eager nose, and he won’t be able to resist!”

Stephane laughed, loud and long.

“Me??” he finally gasped. “I’d rather be baking him cakes, not teaching him jumps. I’m not cut out to be a coach, and you know it.”

“Oh, me neither”, Johnny grimaced, deflating with a sigh. “Do you suppose we’re both too self-centred to be coaches?” he asked, in a rare moment of self-awareness.

Stephane shrugged.

“Maybe”, he answered, carelessly, a little hurt that Johnny wasn’t using this opportunity to reassure him that he would make a great coach. “I think I could be a coach someday... I mean at least _I’d like_ to be”, he argued, a little defensively. “There’s something appealing about the idea of taking a pretty young thing under my wing, teaching him the ropes, having him look up to me, comforting him and celebrating with him...”

“Ugh, you sound like a creepy uncle”, Johnny commented, airily, rummaging through his purse.

“Hey, Johnny?” Stephane said seriously. “I’m sorry about Yuzu. But keep in mind, he’s still a teenager – running hot and cold, you know? I’m sure you mean a lot to him. If he happens to be more starry eyed about Plushenko right now, that might just be a phase, yeah? So..”

Johnny sighed.

“It’s just that... Yuzu does remind me so much of myself when I was his age ... enthusiastic, hard-working, naive, innocent, pure....”

Johnny momentarily paused, in a dramatic show of trying to hold in his tears. Stephane waited patiently.

“....Yes?” he finally prodded.

“Someone soon will put an end to all that”, Johnny answered, with some bitterness. “So maybe you should be the one to seduce him, Steph. I want you to turn Yuzu from a sweet child into a world-class hoe who can’t be tamed, a showy beautiful man who can turn straight men gay, who isn’t afraid to be flamboyant and play the game, the ultimate symbol of unapologetic androgyny.”

Stephane leaned back.

“....in other words, you want me to take this ‘sweet child’ who innocently plays at dressing up and wants to be pretty, and hasten his transformation into .... _you.._? I ask again, shouldn’t you be more suited to teaching him that, Johnny?”

“No”, Johnny answered, seriously. “Some things cannot be taught with words or by watching and repeating motions. They have to be experienced, and _felt_.”

“I see. You do want me to seduce him, then.”

“More like – corrupt him.”

“... No, no. You haven’t got your man for this.”

 “Oh, come on Steph, don’t be such a downer. I know you’re itching to get your hands on the boy and show him _many things_....”

Johnny winked at Stephane and stood up with a flurry.

“You have an entire summer at your disposal to change his mind so that he doesn’t go to Plushenko. It’s ice show season, everyone is relaxed, everyone’s _guard_ is down....”, Johnny said pointedly. “The least you can do is spend some time with the boy. Let this be the summer of love!” he twirled with one of his scarves dramatically. “Losing one’s innocence is so sad, but oh - there’s such forbidden sweetness to be had!”

“You’re incorrigible.”

“And _you_ are getting excited. Your eyes are sparkling and I know very well what this means,” Johnny announced triumphantly.

“This is just you getting your revenge, right? You’re not actually getting off on this, are you? Because that would be sick.”

Johnny giggled madly all the way to the rink.

 

~

Stephane wasn’t going to do what Johnny had asked, he really wasn’t, even though he sometimes did smile when thinking about it.

But there was Yuzuru Hanyu pointedly practicing his program in front of him, putting a little too much effort and intensity into what was a mere practice for an ice show. The other skaters were taking it easy, glad to be free of the shackles of competition, but Yuzuru’s lithe body was never still, never satisfied, always looking for the next challenge, the next improvement. It made Stephane’s long-dormant competitive spirit stir a little inside him. It also stirred something else.

Stephane skated around a little while for warm-up and then, checking carefully to see he was clear of everyone, launched into one of his trademark spins, putting all artistry and speed and flexibility into it. When he emerged, the people around him clapped, impressed. Yuzuru was among them, but then he got a fierce look in his eyes, and launched into a spin of his own, into which Stephane could recognize some elements of Johnny’s. It was good, Yuzuru was flexible and had a suitable sense of drama, but it still couldn’t compare with Stephane’s in term of raw skill, and Stephane smirked. As he finished, Yuzuru searched Stephane’s eyes as if in challenge and Stephane laughed, trying to tamper his excitement with amusement. He skated towards Yuzuru and affectionately ruffled his hair.

Yuzuru blinked slowly, enjoying the attention like a spoiled kitten, but evading it when the touch became condescending. He made to skate away, no doubt to show off some more and Stephane shouted after him:

“Don’t exhaust yourself before the show! You have to save your energy, so you can give your best performance then!”

Yuzuru skated back to him, curiosity and interest lighting an irresistible sparkle in his eyes.

“Is this how you are doing it?” he asked Stephane.

Stephane shrugged.

“Yes, that’s usually what I do. I also draw from the energy of the people so much. I probably couldn’t skate a good program if no one was watching.”

Yuzuru nodded.

“Mmhm”, he agreed, intently. “You’re right, what else?”

Stephane smirked.

“What else what?”

“Tell me more.”

“Ohhh. You want me to reveal all my secrets?” Stephane teased, enjoying himself by now. “What do I get in return?”

Yuzuru shrugged.

“What do you want?”

“Oh, I don’t know. Nothing you’re gonna miss. We’ll see about that when the time comes. But actually, I would be delighted to teach you things.”

Yuzuru brightened.

“Yes, because you’re very talented and genuinely interested. Everyone would be glad to have such a good student.”

Yuzuru smiled and blushed, looking down.

“Now, I’m not going to teach you jumps, I’m sure you have better teachers for that, and I think jumps are less important anyway-”

“Jumps aren’t important?” Yuzuru interrupted with a frown, then blushed further when Stephane stared at him affronted. “Okay I’m sorry, go on.”

“You didn’t phrase that question correctly. You should have asked: ‘Jumps are less important then what?’ Then I’d answer: Less important than artistry, Yuzu. It’s the feeling behind the performance that makes the people stand up and scream for you. That’s what makes them love you.”

“This... this is what I feel myself”, Yuzuru admitted.

“You’re a clever boy”, Stephane praised him.

“But-“

“But what?”

“Jumps are important too”, Yuzuru insisted. “If I am to be the greatest of all time, I need to have everything – jumps and artistry.”

“Oh – do you want to be the greatest of all time, then?” Stephane asked, a little mocking, but also with reluctant respect.

“Yes”, Yuzuru answered, unflinching. “The greatest of all time, forever.”

Stephane felt a shiver run through him in the face of such resolution, like he was part of something momentous. Certainly the one standing in front of him was no ordinary child, no one he knew had such drive and single-minded purpose at the tender age of 16. He studied Yuzuru with more curiosity.

“I see.... Well like I said, I definitely can’t help with jumps. But I would like to help with _everything else.”_

Yuzuru nodded, brightening again.

 

Few people took notice of the two of them as they settled into an easy pupil-mentor relationship over the next couple of weeks.

Yuzuru would start skating and Stephane would stop to watch. Eventually, he’d interfere, making this or that observation.

“What program are you doing now?” Stephane asked, one morning, as he watched Yuzuru fly across the ice intently, making little abrupt motions like trying and failing to unfold his wings. It looked pitifully like an earthbound bird with its wings cruelly cut off, aiming to soar but pulled inevitably down by gravity.

“It’s called White Legend”, Yuzuru answered, a little shyly. “It’s from Swan Lake. Do you want to hear the music?” he asked, and fiddled with his player before handing one of the earphones to Stephane.

Stephane took it and listened while Yuzuru watched him, anxious to hear his opinion.

“Good...Beautiful”, Stephane nodded. “A very moving and dramatic piece. I want to see you perform it now, but – don’t be so rash, so abrupt in your movements. It’s good to have energy, but your movements don’t have to be jerky,” he scolded.

Yuzuru nodded and attempted to comply, Stephane watching him with a finger pressed to his lips thoughtfully.

“Can I make a suggestion?” he finally said. “In the beginning, when you sink on one knee to the ice, the swan trading limbs for wings and discovering his reflection in the depths of the water – this moment is way too rushed, it needs to be drawn out more.”

“But-“, Yuzuru dared to protest, “it’s a three-minute program and all the elements won’t fit...”

“This is an ice show”, Stephane reminded him. “No time constraints here. Plenty of opportunity for experimentation.”

“You’re right”, Yuzuru nodded. “Tell me.”

“You raise your eyes to the sky – pleadingly”, Stephane began, motioning for Yuzuru to follow his instructions, “then drop down as if struck – because you were, in that moment struck, your legs turn to lead, your arms turn to wings – you stretch them out, bewildered... yes, and now forward, bend forward, yes, even more” – Stephane moved around and stretched Yuzuru’s arms in front of him, “your wings are brushing the surface of the water as you gaze down at your reflection.... and now you straighten – still on your knees, with one last look towards the cruel heavens.... your new beauty is a heavy burden but one you will learn to accept and bear graciously... you stand up....and soar....”

Yuzuru gasped, and nodded slowly, eyes moist, leaning into Stephane’s hands.

“I will try.”

Stephane removed his hands slowly, leaving a careful caress in their wake. He cleared his throat, and continued, more severely:

“You have to remember to look up. I noticed that sometimes you get too withdrawn, too focused on yourself. To draw strength from your inner being is good, but the audience must always feel the connection. Expressing yourself in such a way as to stir emotions in others is a true art. Your eyes, when you lift them, must never focus on persons in particular, but always gaze in the general direction of the audience – and your emotions must be bared openly, unafraid.”

“I’m not afraid”, Yuzuru protested, immediately, as if offended by the mere idea of it. “But what if I don’t do it right...”, he frowned, irritated at the prospect of failing.

“The most difficult emotions to express and the ones that everyone everywhere will sympathize with, have to do with love...”

Yuzuru huffed.

“Right, but – can you teach me?”

Stephane looked around.

“Not now. Maybe tomorrow.”

Stephane retreated with a hidden smile. He knew Yuzuru would come to him tomorrow and ask to be taught again, and between now and then, he’d have no choice but to think about it, his clever, if inexperienced, mind running through possibilities and calculations with his usual intensity. Johnny was right. The game was irresistible and Stephane was getting excited.

 

The next day, as they both took the ice, Stephane pretended not to remember the conversation of the previous day, until Yuzuru plainly uttered the words.

“Please teach me – how to properly show emotions when I perform. You _promised_ ”, Yuzuru accused, a little angry, his pride wounded that he had to ask for what he needed.

“Right”, Stephane said airily. “Well, the first lesson is that love is the most basic yet the most complex feeling in the world. You may think you know about it, but do you know _every_ aspect of it? No. You may love your family, your country, you may have had a schoolboy crush. But there is also the sweetness of sensual love, the thrill of forbidden love, the sorrow of lost love, the crushing jealousy of denied love.”

“It sounds complicated”, Yuzuru frowned.

“Not for someone as gifted as you are”, Stephane reassured him. “For instance, I want you to skate now imagining that you’re a scorned lover – you’ve been taken and used, and abandoned – you crave death over humiliation – if the price you have to pay for all the sweet kisses and forbidden sensual delights is a cold place in the ground, then you will be the one to plunge the knife into your aching heart - you lift your eyes towards the sky, in tortured pleading – yes, _yes,_ that look – this is perfect, keep that look, _master it_ , it’s beautiful, _you’re beautiful –_ your hands, give them to me – place them like this, your movements are not studied, they are as elegant and compelling as only love and grief-stricken gestures can be – every gesture, every look - is straight from the heart....”

“But I –“ Yuzuru momentarily faltered, as if suddenly made aware again of his own limitations. “How can I....? How to show these things, if I don’t feel them myself?”

“Ah – have you never, then – felt the sweet touches of another? Have you never been in love, sweet Yuzu?”

“I don’t...” Yuzuru reddened. “I don’t know, I don’t think so...”

“Have you never _ever_ had _secret dirty thoughts_ about anyone? Never looked at someone and found them attractive?”

“Uhh....there is someone I looked at and – and I think he is very charming... I like him very much....”

Stephane nodded in encouragement, even as he cringed a little and pursed his lips, praying he won’t have to hear Plushenko’s name in this context, but Yuzuru went on, reddening even further:

“His name is Javier Fernandez. I really like how he jumps. He’s so cool. I want his quad salchow.”

Stephane brightened.

“Oh, Yuzu! Sweet, sweet Yuzu! Javi is a very beautiful man, and his jumps are great. Good choice! But is this really all you want from him, his quad sal?” he asked, lifting his eyebrows with a knowing smile.

As Yuzuru fidgeted and shrugged, Stephane made a comically disbelieving face:

“Hmmm....is it? Have you never imagined him holding you in his arms, covering your face with burning kisses as he passionately confesses his love for you?”

“I – uh, no”, Yuzuru laughed. “That’s unrealistic.”

Stephane mock-gasped.

“Is it??” he wondered, a hand over his heart. “Then I don’t want to live in this cruel cruel world!” he moaned, and mimed thrusting a knife into his heart, collapsing dramatically and stretching out on the ice.

Yuzuru laughed some more, and helped him up.

“Here’s what we’re going to do, Yuzu”, Stephane said, brushing himself off, “in preparation for your program, you’re going to write how Javier makes you feel. How you feel when you see him jump, how you want him so bad-“

“I respect him”, Yuzuru interrupted.

“Yuzuru, do you want to kill me? Respect is such a cold word, as cold as this ice!” Stephane shuddered.

“But it’s-“

“Shhh! No, I don’t want to hear it! AlI I want to hear from your sweet lips is words of joy and passion and forbidden delights. Do you want me to help you? Do you trust me?”

“Yes! I’m sorry, Stephane-sensei!” Yuzuru replied, with a quick bow.

“Good. Then we’ll start right away”, Stephane said, and skated off, going to the sideboards, stepping off the ice and removing his blade guards.

Yuzuru looked at him askance.

“Well – what are you waiting for? We’re going up to my room, it’s not very practical to write in an ice rink, is it?” Stephane said, impatiently, like this was the most obvious thing in the world. He went off confidently without another word, not even bothering to check if Yuzuru would follow.

Yuzuru looked confused for a couple of seconds, then hurried after Stephane.

 

“Oh, good, you’re finally here”, Stephane said with feigned nonchalance, when Yuzuru showed up in his hotel room with his laptop, some twenty minutes later, looking a little apprehensive but showing his usual determination.

Stephane had waited anxiously, half-fearing Yuzuru won’t show, but now he carefully reigned in his emotions, and looked back at Yuzuru, his face smooth and blank.

“Now come here, take your laptop, and sit in this chair.... I’m afraid the table is a little cluttered - you can sit on the bed if you’re more comfortable - and start writing. I’ll be right here to help you, if you get stuck.”

Yuzuru rolled his eyes a little but picked up his laptop, opening it a little forcefully and flopped down on the bed, on his belly. He opened a word document and frowned, twisting his lips, and chewing on his index finger, seemingly at a loss of inspiration.

“How do I start?” Yuzuru wondered. “Am I writing to Javier or about Javier?”

Stephane took a seat on the bed as well, looking Yuzuru over, his skintight training gear leaving little to imagination, slender body but enticingly curved in all the right places. An angel in black with the soul of a pure white swan. A saint couldn’t possibly resist.

“However you feel most comfortable,” Stephane replied. “You can even imagine _he_ is here with you,” he added, and started to idly run a hand over Yuzuru’s legs, stretched on the bed.

Yuzuru looked over his shoulder, a little nonplussed.

“What?” Stephane reacted, innocently. “Go on, write.”

“I don’t know what to write”, Yuzuru replied, with some frustration.

“Think about Javier. What do you like most about him? And please don’t say his quad sal.”

“He is charming”, Yuzuru mused. “I like his laugh, and his warm eyes. He always acts so kind, and I like that too.”

“Mhm”, Stephane nodded. His hand climbed upwards on Yuzuru’s leg, feeling his thigh. “How do you feel about his body?”

“He is...strong”, Yuzuru choked a little, as Stephane started massaging his thighs in warm languid motions.

“Okay good, write that, yes? Go on...”

“...and...he...his posture is so good. So...straight in the air when he jumps, and.... what are you _doing_?” he finally asked, half-turning, as Stephane was caressing his thighs with both hands now.

“Yuzu”, Stephane sighed, with some exasperation, “I gave you an assignment and you can’t do it properly. What does this say about you as a student?”

“Uh – sorry”, Yuzuru stammered. “But you....”

“Please go on about Javi”, Stephane said, voice stern as a displeased teacher’s. “What would you like to do with him?”

Yuzuru blinked in confusion, his embarrassment and awkwardness at war with his desire to be a good pupil, to always exceed expectations. He turned away to his laptop and recited conscientiously, as Stephane hid a smile:

“I want to learn from him. Many things, not just quad sal. I want to know what makes him great. I want to be with him –“ Stephane rewarded him with a caress on his inner thigh, dangerously close to his groin.” Yuzuru shifted on the bed, restlessly.

“Can we – can we move to the table?” he dared to ask, in a small voice.

“Why?” Stephane asked, silkily. “I think we’re comfortable here, don’t you?” His fingers trailed briefly between Yuzuru’s legs, a touch so brief it could almost be imagined.

Yuzuru’s eyes remained fixed onto the laptop screen, barely daring to move. Stephane whispered in his ear:

“I said, I’m comfortable here, Yuzu. Do you want to move?”

“Y – y- N – ”, Yuzuru managed.

Stephane chuckled.

“We can move if you wish”, he said confidently, running his hands, idly and almost disinterestedly over Yuzuru’s ass, still clad in his tight training gear.

“No”, Yuzuru said, defeated, a contrary look in his eyes. “It’s fine here.”

“Okay, go on then, about Javi – you said you wanted to be with him, what else?”

“I – I want to know about him, what he likes, what he d-dreams... I want to – to – touch him – hah –“ Yuzuru gasped as his pants were suddenly pulled halfway down, exposing his ass.

“Very good”, Stephane murmured, as he lightly caressed Yuzuru’s naked ass. “What else?”

Yuzuru chanced a look behind him, eyes going wide, then quickly returned to look again at his laptop, closing his eyes tightly. He spoke in a rush:

“Sometimes I feel like he can be my only rival and I want to surpass him, but I also want to be important to him. I want him to look at me with admiration – I – “

“ _Very good_ -“

Stephane bent down and pressed his lips against the globes of Yuzuru’s ass, lavishing it with slow, sensual kisses. Yuzuru bit into the back of his hand to muffle a moan.

“I want him to love me. I want him to _adore_ me,” Yuzuru went on, wildly.

Stephane smiled against his skin.

“And he will, don’t worry.”

He shifted on the bed and spread Yuzuru’s legs further, pushing his pants even further down. Yuzuru gasped, but didn’t otherwise move. He pushed the laptop aside and dropped his head to the bed with an unrestrained moan, as Stephane parted his ass cheeks and licked at his opening.

Yuzuru lifted his hips just barely, eyes going glassy, as Stephane got a better grip and bent for another lick, squeezing his tongue inside the tight opening.

“Mnnn!” Yuzuru whined, high and guttural.

He thrashed a little, trying to evade the foreign sensation even as he chased it. Stephane quieted him with a firm hand on his hip, like he would a wild horse.

“Shhh, baby. Easy. You’re just as sweet as I imagined. Sweeter even. It’s alright.”

Stephane pressed an open mouthed kiss on him tenderly, then sucked gently at the quivering opening, before thrusting his tongue inside again. Forcing the cheeks of Yuzuru’s ass wide open, the probing tongue delved deep inside, caressing the warm folds.

Yuzuru whimpered, face flushed and half hidden into the bed, panting eratically like he was drowning, beads of sweat gathering on his forehead, eyes glazed over. The noises he made in reaction to Stephane fervently eating him out were small and uncontrolled, like a wild trapped animal, like something without a consciousness, a pure reaction to sensations he had no words for.

Stephane was rock hard in his jeans but he ignored his pressing need and continued to tongue-fuck the boy skillfully, alternating between sucking and licking sloppily at the opening now loosened by his attention. He thrust his tongue inside deeply to tease and feel the quivering body contract around him in pure pleasure. He went on like this, until Yuzuru had completely melted against the bed, dizzy and overwhelmed, a mess of throbbing need, trembling pitifully.

Stephane carefully extricated himself and slid up the bed to face Yuzuru. He took his face between his palms, unearthing it from where it was hidden in the blankets, flushed with arousal and shame, eyes tightly closed. Stephane murmured sweet nonsense as he caressed Yuzuru’s neck and tenderly brushed at the tears gathered at the corners of his eyes, and Yuzuru moaned, chasing even that slightest touch.

“Yuzu – sweetie, do you want to touch yourself? You can touch yourself, you know...”

Yuzuru shook his head slightly, still clinging, despite everything, to a small shred of embarrassment.

Stephane took Yuzuru’s hand and guided it to his cock, dictating the rhythm for a while. Yuzuru bit his lip hard and continued to stroke himself even after Stephane had removed his hand, his movements uncertain, but with mounting urgency.

“It will feel so good to come...”, Stephane whispered. “But it’s not enough, is it? You want more. You feel empty, don’t you? You want to be filled. You want more of that sweet, almost unbearably sweet high...”

“Nghh...”

“I want to show you, Yuzu. I want to take you, and show you. It will be your first real lesson.”

Stephane stood up, all mellow sweetness from his voice vanishing on the final sentence, replaced by pure lust, as he undid his belt, and started undressing.

Yuzuru watched him, still in a daze. It seemed surreal. He allowed himself to be undressed completely, and maneuvered again face down on the bed, with a pillow underneath him, sighing in relief as he felt the coolness of the sheets on his overheated face. He flinched briefly at the first touch of something gelatinous and cold, but Stephane’s fingers were soothing, skillful, and they touched again that secret spot inside of his ass which made him wild. The fingers were stretching, twisting, owning him on the inside. Yuzuru’s entire body was burning, shifting to accommodate the invasion, his entire being focused on the fingers exploring his ass.

They both cried out during the initial penetration – despite all the preparation, Yuzuru’s body clenched down on Stephane’s cock, making him grit his teeth.

Stephane stilled and ran his palm, slow and steady down Yuzuru’s spine, leaving a soothing warmth in its wake. He bent and kissed Yuzuru’s shoulders and upper back where the sharp bones were sticking out like vestigial wings.

“Let me in, good boy, let me in –“ he whispered coaxingly, and Yuzuru relaxed, with a shuddering sigh, going boneless against the bed.

Stephane thrust in deeply, with an approving groan:

“You feel so good, Yuzu – so good – you’re a waking dream-“

Yuzuru smiled against the sheets, a secret smile just for himself, satisfied by the praise. He loved it, the way Stephane groaned like he was wounded with the pleasure of fucking him – he loved it almost as much as the pleasure that the older man was giving him, almost as much as that sweet pressure _inside of him_ that was sometimes _too much_ to take. He felt like he was burning – would he burn down completely or would he transform? _Nothing will be the same again._

Somewhere far in the back of his mind was the idea that this shouldn’t happen, that it was wrong and incredible, but that thought was washed away by the intensity of all the sensations assaulting his body and mind. _Nothing will ever be_ -

Yuzuru came with a wild cry, his neglected cock rubbing against the sheets and the burning weight of Stephane’s body plastered onto his back, breath ragged into his ear, as he whispered to him that he was “so good, so good, the best, the best I’ve ever had –“

As he finally came down from his high, with Stephane fussing over him, cleaning him up and caressing him, Yuzuru thought of Javier, and felt guilty that he hadn’t thought about him before.

“Are you alright?” Stephane asked.

Yuzuru nodded. He still felt light-headed and dizzy, like the world was floating, and he with it, gently, like being rocked in a vast weightless cradle. Yet somewhere in the back of his mind, there was a dreadful but exciting notion of the importance of what had just happened, and with it, a heightened sense of his own importance.

Yuzuru breathed deeply.

He felt _alive._

 

 

Stephane closed the door of his hotel room behind Yuzuru, a vague smile still lingering on his face.

He took out his phone and called Johnny.

“You’ll be pleased to hear that the baby swan has been hooked and netted.”

“...What?” Johnny asked drily, sounding seconds away from hanging up in his face.

Stephane chuckled.

“I can’t really speak freely you know....what I’ve been doing is very very questionable... The thing we talked about, that you asked my help with....”

“Yuzu?”

“Mhm.”

“Really? How was it?”

Stephane lifted an eyebrow in surprise. Johnny didn’t sound happy, as Stephane had assumed he would be. In fact, Johnny sounded tight and bitter.

“Oh, he was marvelous. But don’t worry, Johnny, you’re still the best”, Stephane mischievously added, as an afterthought.

“Ha!” Johnny reacted, and hung up on him.

Stephane shook his head at the moods of his dear friend.

“Not even a word of thanks”, he murmured to himself, then grimaced and shrugged.

 

~

Yuzuru would have plenty of occasions to think about Javier in the months to come. Yet somehow, it was never _during_ – because Stephane’s very existence seemed to preclude that, overwhelming with his presence and assault on Yuzuru’s oversensitive mind and body. It was always afterwards, in the afterglow, soft and relaxed, that Yuzuru’s mind quieted down and rearranged itself with a new sharpness, and then he thought of Javier – no longer with guilt, but with a sweet and burning curiosity. The new Yuzuru knew more and could therefore imagine so much more. And the new Yuzuru wanted to know Javier – _intimately._

Stephane would tell Yuzuru that he had a new look in his eyes and that he was improving so much, that soon he’ll have nothing more to teach him.

Little did he know that Yuzuru practiced that look in the mirror, after every single one of their encounters, and he would smile in satisfaction knowing that he could express it all now with his eyes – everything he had wished to express, and more, things he didn’t even have a name for - longing, desire, fulfillment and pain – all the more real for having been experienced.

He was an artist on ice, thriving under Stephane’s focused and smitten attention.

There were two things Yuzuru still had to imagine – seduction, and loss.

The art of seduction had so far been a sword turned pointed side towards him; even as he learned more and more about pleasing himself and his partner, Yuzuru was still the one under the thrall of the older man, who had a wealth of experience and guided Yuzuru all throughout their lovemaking.

As for the heavy feeling of romantic loss – that was still only imagined.

Yuzuru was just beginning to work on the former, sharpening his looks and claws like a kitten discovering his weapons for the first time, Stephane an only too willing victim to be played with. But then something occured that would hasten his experiencing of the latter.

 

~

The new dynamic between Stephane and Yuzuru could not pass unnoticed for long. Stephane was aware many times of Johnny’s eyes on them, and the look wasn’t exactly friendly. Yet Johnny never approached or confronted either of them, choosing instead to sulk in a rather passive-aggressive way, which – Stephane reflected - was very like Johnny.

And then Stephane stopped worrying about that, because he was becoming more and more focused on Yuzuru and Yuzuru alone. This game between them which had started with him having the upper hand as the experienced seducer, was now gradually changing, with Stephane now becoming enthralled by this fascinating, ever-evolving monster. 

Oh, he was still keeping his guise as a benevolent and slightly indifferent teacher, but his single-minded attention, the way he more often than not used his hands to correct Yuzuru’s posture, or direct his movements, hands which lingered on the slender body more than was appropriate, fingers that tightened slightly, touches that turned into brief caresses, they all betrayed him even to casual onlookers.

However, this state of affairs was not unheard of – people around them were united by a shared bohemian outlook on life, and, jaded by past experiences, were leading more or less decadent lives themselves. They merely snickered and rolled their eyes, paying them little mind. As long as this did not leave the safe confines of their inner circle, Stephane wasn’t too worried.

 

~

One day, Stephane and Johnny found themselves alone in the dressing room, and the atmosphere was very different from their careless chatter at the beginning of the summer. The air between them sparkled with underlying tension, until Johnny broke the silence.

“You’re having fun, aren’t you? Having your _hands full,_ as they say? With Yuzu.”

“At your request,” Stephane saw fit to remind him, “I am helping with his training and it is proving very .... satisfactory. He is a fast learner. Absolutely delightful.”

“You’re not getting too attached, are you?”

“Dear, if I didn’t know you any better, I’d say you sound jealous. Remember it was you who put me up to this. He’s a sweet, feisty kid and he’s wonderfully talented, why shouldn’t I be attached?”

“When you say talented, do you mean on ice?”

“Both on ice and in bed, of course. Like I said, I’ve been working hard with him.”

“Well, you’ve done your part, maybe it’s time you stopped.”

“You’re amazing.”

“Thank you.”

“I mean amazing at not letting other people enjoy themselves if you aren’t. Why can’t you –for once - be happy for me?”

“Like you said, it was at _my_ advice that you had a fun time seducing Yuzu. As I understand, it was an all around success? In any case, he’s not going to Russia anymore, so I got what I wanted. So now you better stop.”

“And if I don’t?” Stephane smiled insolently.

“What do you want, anyway?” Johnny asked, annoyed. “Do you want to coach him? Do you want to marry him?”

“And if I do?” Stephane continued to rile him up, with an unrepentant smirk.

Johnny set his water bottle down with a thud.

“Is this a declaration of war?” he asked, seriously.

“Maybe it is”, Stephane answered nonchalantly, just to see what Johnny would do.

Johnny tilted his head and regarded him pointedly for a bit, before standing up and leaving the dressing room.

 

~

Out of the corner of his eye, Johnny could see Yuzuru lingering close by, throwing anxious looks his way, as if wanting to come closer but not daring to. With a visible effort, he schooled his face into a smile, and skated towards Yuzuru.

“Yuzu-kuuun!” he reacted, opening his arms widely, as if he had only just seen him. “How is my favourite baby these days?”

Yuzuru giggled and hugged back.

“I’m fine!” he beamed. “But you – Johnny, you seem upset...?”

Johnny paused. He had thought he was hiding his bad mood quite well, but apparently not to someone as sensitive as Yuzuru.

“Hm, do you know when you have a friend with whom you think you can share everything .... and they turn out to be a backstabbing bastard? That’s how I feel!”

Yuzuru’s face fell.

“Who?” he whispered.

Johnny waved a hand.

“Nobody you know. Nevermind. Tell me about yourself. You are making progress lately, I noticed.”

“Thank you”, Yuzuru blushed. “I’m so happy that you like my skating.”

“I dooo”, Johnny gushed, “I like what I see. You’re unfolding like a flower. No, a flower is passive. More like a beautiful black swan.”

“I always wanted to be beautiful. Like you,” Yuzuru murmured.

Johnny gave a startled laugh, torn between basking in Yuzuru’s wide eyed admiration of him and his own jealousy.

“Honey, being beautiful is all about how you feel inside.”

“Yes, Stephane has been teaching me this.”

“Oh, I’m sure he has”, Johnny nodded with a saccharine smile, which faded from his face immediately.

“Do you disapprove of Stephane teaching me?” Yuzuru asked, confused. “I can express myself on ice so well thanks to him now.”

“Yuzu-kun, Stephane is a dear _dear_ friend of mine. How can I disapprove of anything he does? I am _so happy_ that he decided to take you under his wing.”

Johnny bopped his nose affectionately and Yuzuru giggled, reassured.

 

~

The next day, Yuzuru’s mother received a letter from a ‘well-wisher who desired to remain anonymous, expressing concern over her son’s interactions with an older man from his entourage. _‘Having witnessed their inappropriate closeness, I can see how someone as innocent as your son could be taken advantage of... I think you should act quickly before it comes to worse... Signed, a well-wisher’_

The deliberately vague tone annoyed and concerned Yumi in equal measure, and she decided to confront Yuzuru about it.

 

~

Yuzuru was riding Stephane slowly, face flushed and eyes hooded, half-closed in bliss, Stephane’s hands warm on his hips, not pushing or guiding the rhythm, just steadying.

The rhythm was torturous and Stephane threw his head back, with a groan, eyes tightly closed until he could feel a hand gripping at his hair. He opened his eyes and found himself staring into the demanding dark depths of Yuzuru’s own.

Yuzuru lifted himself almost completely off Stephane’s cock and then sank down with deliberate, terrible slowness, letting Stephane feel every inch of his tightness that enveloped him like a hard-earned victory, like a newfound bliss. Stephane’s mouth went slack with pleasure and sheer admiration, unable to look away from Yuzuru’s intense gaze. His hands gripped Yuzuru’s hips desperately, hanging on for dear life, as if afraid he was going to be swept away by an unyielding storm.

A shaky but satisfied smile found its way on Stephane’s face. He loved being surprised.

And then there was nothing but Yuzuru.

_Yuzuru._

 

~

Yumi was waiting for her son when he entered his hotel room quietly late at night. When he saw her sitting there, he gave a little cry of surprise and his mother’s eyes widened.

“Yuzu...?” she asked, suspiciously. “Where have you been?”

“Out”, he answered, shortly and vaguely. “Why?”

“....Just asking”, she shrugged, equally evasive.

Sitting in the darkness and waiting for her son, she had anticipated, even wanted a confrontation, but now she found she wanted to avoid it – or wanted to avoid the lies that would inevitably follow. But she resolved in that moment that from now on she would go with her son to the rink and be his shadow wherever he went.

“I was waiting for you because I wanted to talk”, she went on. “The summer is almost over and we have to think about plans for the future. The federation is asking us for a decision about coaching, so they can approve it and begin negotiations.”

Yuzuru nodded, as if he had expected this and had his answer ready.

“I have been thinking, and planning. There is no easy decision, but my goal remains the same as it has always been. I want to keep skating and I want to be the best. I want to learn from the best. I want to train with Stephane Lambiel.”

“Stephane Lambiel?” Yumi echoed, frowning. “Whatever happened to your idol, Plushenko?”

Yuzuru grimaced, for once looking like a contrary teenage boy, and his mother regarded him closely.

“Why Stephane?” she insisted.

“He’s been teaching me useful things. I’ve improved so much thanks to him.”

“What did he do to you?” his mother asked, plainly.

Yuzuru paled, then darkened, staring at his mother with a shocked intensity.

“What?” he gasped, feigning a clueless outrage. “What do you mean?”

“Yuzu—“

“Didn’t you hear me, mother? _I am getting better at skating_ because of him!”

“Yuzu, my child, you’re....such a special boy and I’m...I just want to protect you and shelter you because I know what’s out there....”

 _Maybe you want that too much_ , Yuzuru reflected bitterly.

“You don’t have to worry, mother”, he said out loud, smiling with a confidence he did not feel. “It’s all fine.”

His mother shook her head.

“I can’t tell you what to do on ice. But I forbid you to meet with Stephane off the ice”, she said resolutely. “And you will not be training with him. I know I can’t force you, but if you really love me, you won’t go against my wish. You have to choose, Yuzuru – who do you care about more - him or me?”

Yuzuru stared at his mother open-mouthed, annoyed beyond belief that she would choose this way of persuading him. He gritted his teeth in futile dismay. Oh, she knew full well the power she held over him – he fully depended on her, and despite his occasional acts of rebellion, he really did love her a lot. They had always shared a special connection.

Finally Yuzuru sighed in defeat, and nodded.

“If you won’t let me train with Stephane, then I want to go to Canada!” Yuzuru challenged. “I want to learn the quad salchow from Javier Fernandez.”

“Fine”, his mother agreed, knowing she had to make a concession as well. “But I’ll be coming with you.”

“ _Fine_ ”, Yuzuru shrugged.

He turned on his heels and left. His mother gazed after him, thoughtfully, biting her lip in anxiety. She didn’t know whether to count their conversation as a win or not. She sensed there were things Yuzuru wasn’t telling her – it was true that her boy was growing up, but she couldn’t help but wish things would never have to change between them. She wondered if he’d ever fully trust her again.

 

*

A few months later, on Yuzuru’s 17th birthday, Stephane snuck into Yuzuru’s hotel room in Quebec during the Grand Prix Finals.

They made passionate love and said their tearful goodbyes.

“Yuzuru, our affair wasn’t meant to last”, Stephane said, gently kissing his tears away. “It is your first taste of this pain, and you can see it as a lesson, too. But don’t cry too much, and be content. You are young and life is all spread out in front of you. You’re free to find as many different joys as you want – and tears.”

“I will never forget you”, Yuzuru declared. “I will think about you while I perform, and no one in the world will know but us.” 

‘At least until you start thinking of another’, Stephane thought sadly, but nodded, and smiled.

Yuzuru had been his, and Stephane had been the first to have him, which was doing wonderful things to Stephane’s ego. But deep down inside of him he knew - that what he had done was wrong, and that he could never hope to keep or even fully own, everything that made Yuzuru himself.

The baby swan had merely paused to marvel at his own transformation – and now he’d unfold his wings.


	2. Chapter 2

“Will you teach me quad sal?” Yuzuru asked Javier.

Javier looked up to see his training mate watching him intently, deceptively frail body shuddering as he was taking deep, almost wheezy breaths in the wake of his exertion. He wiped the sweat freely pouring down his face with the back of his arm, as he waited for Javier’s answer.

Yuzuru was a study in contrasts. He struggled with asthma and poor stamina, yet powered through long after Javier decided to slow down and give his aching muscles a well-needed rest. The boy looked like one could knock him down with a feather, yet the height and rotation speed of his jumps was impressive.

Even now, as he stood there innocently ruffled and struggling to breathe, there was something about him and the intensity of his gaze that screamed danger.

Everything about his new training mate excited, delighted and fascinated Javier. And now this question. Oh, it was too good. Javier threw his head back and laughed, eyes lighting up.

“Nope”, he answered shortly. “I won’t.”

“...No?” Yuzuru asked, face dropping a little.

“ _Hell no_ ”, Javier emphasized, grinning even more. “Why should I? It’s my best weapon! Why should I let someone like you get your dirty little hands on  _my_  quad sal?”

Yuzuru considered this seriously, and then nodded.

“What do you want in return?” he asked Javier.

Javier’s eyes sparkled.

“There’s nothing you can give me that I don’t already have, or can get myself”, he boasted. “But you could come on a date with me. You’re always so withdrawn. Let’s go out together and have fun this weekend.”

“I... I  _can’t_ ”, Yuzuru replied in pure frustration, biting his lip. He stopped himself before his gaze could unconsciously fly towards the windows that separated the rink from the outside area, where he knew his mother sat and watched.

“No? Well then, I guess the quad sal stays with me”, Javier said smugly, then skated away.

“I can still watch you”, Yuzuru shouted after him. “I’ll  _take_  it from you.”

“You can’t”, Javier hollered, “it needs my blessing to work well.”

He laughed for a while by himself, shaking his head, amused at his own silly joke, and despite everything, Yuzuru cracked a smile of his own. Javier was funny.

 

Yuzuru stopped appreciating Javier’s humour when his emotional brain decided to take Javier’s silly words quite literally. It was as if there was an invisible barrier between him and the quad sal, and everytime he thought he might land it consistently, that he got the key of it at last, it betrayed him in new and painful ways. Yuzuru fell, slipped, went crashing down, hilariously, dramatically, dangerously, his body bearing in angry purple marks his inability to conquer this jump.

As time passed, and the first competition was approaching, Yuzuru was getting more and more desperate. Brian’s tepid reassurances that nothing happens overnight, and that he should pace himself so he could reach his peak at the end of the season, fell on deaf ears.

Javier watched him from the corner of his eye, with reluctant affection and undeniable interest. From Yuzuru’s own glances towards him, Javier knew that the interest was mutual and that his attention didn’t go unnoticed. It was a recipe for anxiety, yet Javier couldn’t help it. His gaze kept getting drawn towards the young Japanese boy with phoenix eyes and steely determination. Javier felt intrigued, sympathetic, irresistibly  _drawn._  Yuzuru’s almost self-destructive drive was something to behold, and Javier realized that the boy had indeed almost mastered the quad sal just by watching Javier and the hurdle he was facing was now psychological. With a few well-chosen words, Javier realized he could at least try, if not succeed, to break through Yuzuru’s mental block and help him gain consistency in this capricious jump. But Javier also knew that he’d be a fool if he offered that on a plate to his rival, especially with the Olympics looming.

Something superstitious inside Javier whispered to him that if everything went his -  _Yuzuru’s_  - way, this boy would spread his wings and eat the world.

 

Yuzuru changed the game. With little time alone with Javier, and most of it on ice, he decided to take advantage of it in whatever ways he could. He increased the frequency and intensity of his meaningful looks. He stretched in front of Javier, with little kitten gasps, his flexible body on vulnerable display. When he fell, he’d stretch out dramatically onto the ice, as if lamenting his fate, milking the sympathy and admiration of the onlookers, and in particular of the one he knew was bound to watch him, and who would eventually approach him, one hand extended to help Yuzuru up.

There were also the touches. Yuzuru would brush against Javier as if by chance, the points of contact between their bodies like an almost-caress. The touching game was a particularly daring one, especially under his mother’s watchful eyes, and Yuzuru was frustrated to see that Javier saw in them only a sign of camaraderie. Javier welcomed the vague meaningful closeness, but answered it with straightforward and enthusiastic hugs. Javier’s hands were everywhere – on Yuzuru’s neck, back, waist, even tummy, rubbing gently at his sore shoulders, patting his thighs, ruffling his hair - but the touches were devoid of hidden meaning. Javier just liked touching people. And Yuzuru was there, welcoming it. So Yuzuru got the full Javi-touch treatment.

But how to teach Javier that for Yuzuru the mere brush of fingers with intent, the mere closeness when Brian was talking to them and they listened like dutiful students, was meant as something  _daring_ , and to  _be taken advantage of_ , despite Yuzuru’s stated refusal to date Javier?

Javier was very much attuned and receptive to other people’s needs and emotions, especially those pertaining to himself. He could see Yuzuru’s interest shimmering under the barely repressed surface, he could tell that Yuzuru was angling for his attention. So he persisted in asking Yuzuru out, with varying degrees of seriousness, only to be politely but firmly refused each time. Thoroughly confused, Javier stopped asking and settled for concluding that Yuzuru was a complete mystery. Little did he know that Yuzuru’s refusals were because of his mother. She was watching her son like a hawk and Yuzuru hoped that, by a careful mix of genuine hard work and casual disinterest in socializing, he would finally calm her fears and get her to loosen her constant surveillance.

 

It didn’t help that Yumi had already figured out the extent and quality of Yuzuru’s interest in Javier and their conversation on this topic was their first real fight since they arrived in Canada.

“You keep looking at this man, Yuzuru, instead of focusing on your skating.”

“He’s a rival, mom! One of my most important rivals. Why shouldn’t I take advantage of the fact that I train with him to study him?”

“...You are not looking at him like ‘just’ a rival. And I don’t like the way he’s looking at you, either.”

Yuzuru rolled his eyes dramatically.

“So? What does it matter? We only see each other at the rink!”

“Yuzuru, i just want to-“

“Protect me, yes – I know!” Yuzuru answered annoyed and impatient.

 _‘If you only knew....It’s too late, mom!’_  he wanted to scream at her, but he couldn’t take this thing from her, the illusion of her child’s innocence.

“Please, just trust me”, he said instead. “I know what I’m doing. And I’ll be 18 soon.”

Yumi’s face had twisted at that.

“You may be eighteen soon, but you’re still my child! And you’ll always be!” her voice broke on a sob on the last words, and Yuzuru froze.

He hated seeing his mother genuinely upset – even more so if it was his fault. Their previous argument forgotten, Yuzuru approached to give her a soft tentative hug, not knowing if it was welcome or not. His mother clung to him.

“I didn’t mean to make you sad”, Yuzuru said, with genuine emotion.

“You don’t make me sad”, she denied, voice high. “You make me very happy.”

Yuzuru didn’t know what to answer to that, so he kept hugging her, rubbing at her back in comforting motions.

 

This short outburst had left them neither here nor there, and things continued as before, except there was an added tension whenever the topic of his training mate came up in conversation. Yuzuru had as good as confirmed his feelings for Javier and Javier’s feelings for him, and Yumi, in turn, had voiced her disapproval.

 

And Yuzuru still wasn’t mastering the quad sal.

 

The first competition of the season arrived, and since it was also Yuzuru’s first since he moved to another coach and another country, he knew a lot of people would be watching and judging. He felt acutely like he wasn’t prepared enough. His lack of stamina, his inability to withstand more ice time because of his asthma, were additional source of frustration. Yuzuru felt he felt he had enough fire in him to burn the world, would but this frail body of his withstand it.

He had a mantra that he was whispering to himself in moments when he wanted to magically endow his body with a steely confidence, in spite of its own weakness - ‘ _Mind shall be wiser, heart bolder, courage the greatest, as my strength lessens._ ’

But even that did not help Yuzuru now – he felt his weakness overpowering his will, his mind as heavy as his limbs, muddled, assailed by doubts. Those doubts and fears were keeping him awake at night and making him lose his appetite during the day. His mother had to count it as a win if she could persuade him to eat the barest amount to sustain him through the day. But if Yuzuru could make himself ingest nutrients by sheer willpower, there was nothing he could do for his sleep. Sleeping pills were not recommended for people with asthma – Yuzuru had tried it at some point in desperation, but the next day he only felt more exhausted, and it definitely wasn’t a long-term solution. His mother made him relaxing tea, Kikuchi-san gave him massages and advised him to empty his mind and engage in passive contemplation – a contradiction in terms that Yuzuru found easier said than done.

In the middle of the night, Yuzuru was still left staring at the dark ceiling of his hotel room, a sense of impending doom eating away at his mind and preventing him from sleeping.

 

It was the day of the short program, and Yuzuru barely got through it, dizzy with exhaustion, but still functioning on pure adrenaline.

Afterwards, Brian told Yumi in no uncertain terms that Yuzuru needs to get a good sleep before the free program tomorrow and that he forbids him to do anything that involved mental and physical exertion. Yumi nodded helplessly and explained that Yuzuru has been having trouble sleeping lately, and she was near the end of her wits trying to help him.

“Maybe I can help”, Javier suggested, having overheard them.

Yumi looked contrary. Brian considered this.

“Javier does have a relaxing influence on Yuzuru”, he explained to a suspicious Yumi.

“What are you going to do? Sing him to sleep?” Yumi said, a little put-out. “I already tried that myself.”

“Maybe I can talk to him. Get him to see things from a different point of view,” Javier replied, calmly.

Yumi shrugged pointedly, and Javier nodded at Brian and followed her.

 

Yuzuru was in bed, squeezing his eyes tightly shut in the lazy late-afternoon glow of an autumn sun. It was no use. His mind buzzed continuously at him like a broken record playing random things – a fragment of a jump, a flash of choreography, faces in the crowd, banners, flags, Brian pointing his finger, Javier laughing, an airport announcement, fragments of a song – nothing he could hold on to and everything directed as if from outside, nothing he could hold on to, nothing he could control.

Yuzuru tossed and turned in his bed, with increasing desperation. He startled badly when the door creaked open, a jarring noise on his overwrought senses. He whirled around and his mouth dropped open in surprise at the sight of Javier, who stood there in the doorway watching him with a soft tentative gaze which bordered uncomfortably on pity.

“What are you doing here?” Yuzuru asked, worried he might be hallucinating.

“I’m sorry, did I wake you?”

“Wake me??” Yuzuru dissolved into manic laughter. “I wish!”

Yuzuru turned and dropped back on the bed like a stone, closing his eyes, his curiosity about what Javier was doing in his room all but leaving him. It was nothing but yet another fragment of this chaotic world that he couldn’t control. He heard Javier approach the bed with hesitant steps. A hand reached out tentatively and brushed at the sensitive skin under his eyes, the touch like a feathery caress, both curious and soothing. Yuzuru knew Javier’s fingers traced the dark purple circles he found there and wished the spell of tenderness could magically wipe them away. He frowned, squeezing his eyes tightly shut. Javier removed his hand.

“Yuzu. Can I stay here a while with you?” he asked, softly.

“Yeah, sure. But mom-“

“She’s right outside. It’s fine,” Javier answered and slid into bed behind Yuzuru, gathering him into his arms.

Yuzuru opened his eyes in surprise, blinking slowly. There was a pleasant warmth behind him and a body slotted to his perfectly, so right and comforting that despite his gnarling anxiety, Yuzuru felt his eyelids growing steadily heavier – this time of their own accord, not because he willed them shut.

Yuzuru started to say something, wanting to express gratitude for the feeling of comfort and soft, steady warmth that was engulfing him like a cocoon. But he found his tongue heavy in his mouth and the sweet ease of sleep descending on his exhausted brain with every breath he took. Still, he had a feeling that Javier knew what he wanted to say - Yuzuru felt Javier press a chaste kiss at the corner of his temple, answering his incoherent mumbling. Javier held him even closer, as a further answer to Yuzuru’s unstated thoughts, the warm circle of his arms not restrictive, just firmly secure. Yuzuru didn’t want to, and couldn’t overthink it – it felt just right, and his mind and body melted, desperate for a much needed rest.

There were no words, just peace. And Yuzuru abandoned himself to deep slumber.

 

Javier came out of the room, closing the door softly behind him.

Yumi, who had been impatiently sitting outside, stood up to face him.

“Yuzuru is your rival”, she said, an almost insinuation. “You should be preparing for the competition tomorrow instead of being here. I’ll take care of him, I’m his mother.”

Javier nodded.

“Looks like I was able to achieve what you couldn't. Put him to sleep.” Javier simply replied.

Despite his words, he didn’t gloat, only perhaps a hint of reproach in his tone and slightly raised eyebrows. Yumi’s eyes widened in surprise, even as she felt the shadow of reproach like a bitter sting. She bowed in acknowledgement, reluctantly grateful.

To her surprise, Javier didn’t linger, just quietly took his leave. Yumi closed her eyes and breathed a long sigh of relief.

She went and peered inside the room. Yuzuru was indeed sleeping peacefully, on the pristine sheets, face slack and relaxed, his usual burning intensity smoothed over by the bliss of slumber, fingers slightly curled against the pillow. Yumi felt her love for him as an agonizing pull, and she rubbed at her eyes hastily, wiping sudden tears. Yuzuru had always demanded more in terms of love than his sister, and Yumi had been glad to provide. Now she felt as if there was an excess of love that Yuzuru maybe did not need anymore. The thought was bitter but cooling. She didn’t know how to deal with it, but she was certain of one thing – no one else knew Yuzuru as well as she did. And she’d always be there for him, while everyone else would be flitting in and out of his life, like moths drawn to an overly bright source of light, only to retreat as they got burned.

 

When Yuzuru awoke the next morning, he felt rested and much better, but annoyed as he remembered the events of the past day. He had high hopes of playing dirty games with Javier, establishing himself as both a fearsome rival and an object of desire. Yet what he had done instead was fall asleep like a scared child in the arms of the very man he wanted to step on and seduce into submission. Yuzuru blushed with anger and embarrassment. He was no longer a child! How could he hope to achieve everything he had in mind, if he still behaved like one? He was weak – _weak._

“Mind shall be wiser, heart bolder, courage the greatest....”, Yuzuru mumbled to himself, and he could feel it working again, that steely determination gripping him anew.

He performed a beautiful and almost technically sound free program that day, the only mistake a step out of his quad sal. Brian was overjoyed, but Yuzuru was only appeased when it became obvious he was going to win. Javier came second and Yuzuru was almost embarrassed to face him, worried that Javier might despise him for his weakness and resent him for his win.

Yuzuru needn’t have worried. Javier was smitten with him, even more so since their quiet and peaceful sharing of the same bed for a couple of hours. There was a basic side of Javier which craved domesticity and while Yuzuru did not envision this about his training mate so he could include it in his calculations, it seemed that fate itself saw fit to provide for it in their convoluted interactions. The unexpected situation solved several unbalanced things between the two of them. Javier had now seen Yuzuru at his most honestly vulnerable, and he, Javier, had been able to genuinely help, with no further consideration of how it would impact their rivalry or their otherwise precarious relationship.

And of course, Javier now knew how Yuzuru’s body felt like, tightly pressed against his own – it had felt so right that it almost scared him, and he knew that nothing would be the same again between them. Already irresistibly drawn towards Yuzuru, Javier now wasted no opportunity, however small, for his hands to settle on his training mate’s body, for their bodies to slot together, trying to re-establish that connection. He hovered over him protectively and yearningly, asking him quietly if he was okay. After the medal ceremony, they lingered as people asked for pictures. As Yuzuru started to show the first signs of exhaustion, Javier practically dragged him out of the venue, explaining to everyone that Yuzuru needed to rest. Yuzuru had barely registered his exhaustion himself, still high on his win and Javier’s solicitous proximity. For once, he deliberately laid aside his calculations and brooding thoughts, and smiled blindingly, enjoying himself with no further consideration that he was acting childish. Even Yumi had to smile at the interactions between the two boys. Sometimes things just clicked.

 

~

“Do you want me to teach you the sal?” Javier asked Yuzuru, some time after their return to Canada. The question was phrased as to be deliberately offhand, and Javier didn’t look up as he was untying his skates.

Yuzuru stilled and nodded, with focused attention. Javer chanced a quick look at him, then focused back on his skates, as he went on:

“It's not about teaching. It's about  _doing._  You need to stop thinking so much and just launch into it. Besides, watching how I do it may not always help. I can do it in a certain way but that might not work for you. My body type is different than yours, so....”

“You looked at my body then?” Yuzuru couldn’t help interrupting, with a cheeky smile.

Javier scoffed.

“That’s... a dumb question, I don’t have to stare to notice”, he argued defensively. “Especially since you’re wearing those tight clothes which leave nothing to imagination”, he further accused. And I have to know what I’m up against, don’t I?”

Javier almost rolled his eyes with a grimace, when he realized how that came out.

Yuzuru lifted his eyebrow with a kittenish smile.

Javier bit back his own urge to smile, and shrugged, deliberately:

“Anyway, I thought you weren’t interested? It's only skating, skating, skating with you.”

Yuzuru’s smile changed in hue, becoming almost predatory, as he approached Javier and lay his palms fully on Javier's chest, pressing slightly.

Javier's breath stuttered, his pupils visibly dilating.

“You are my fated rival”, Yuzuru declared. “The only question is, who will chase who.”

“I-“ Javier cleared his throat. “I think it’s only fair that you chase me. After all, I’m more experienced and I have the quad sal.”  

Yuzuru smirked.

“I love chasing”, he replied, removing his hands.

The place on Javier’s chest now felt chilled to the bone as if missing an essential source of warmth, and Javier wanted it back. Impulsively, he took hold of Yuzuru's hand and pressed it back against his chest.

They stared at each other, unblinking. Javier slowly brought his own hand to Yuzuru's cheek, cupping it gently while he looked into his eyes, leaning in. Yuzuru rubbed his face into Javier’s palm and sighed, looking up expectantly. Slowly, unsteadily, as if still weighed down by doubt, Javier nudged Yuzuru's lips with his own. Their bodies froze to stillness as only their lips moved, exploring feel and texture and taste, with focused intent and growing excitement. Their burning curiosity towards each other finally finding a bit of satisfaction.

The moment was harshly broken, when a door slammed and Javier Raya came in.

Javier and Yuzuru broke apart, abruptly startled out of their trance, and stared at each other with frightened eyes, as if they had been caught doing something much - much worse.

“Hey, hey, don't stop on my account”, Raya said when he saw them, with a lewd chuckle. “Although, I’d appreciate to be invited the next time", he mock-pouted, then turned, starting to undress and paying no more attention to them.

Neither Yuzuru or Javier answered, their hearts still beating wildly. Javier lifted a hand towards his lips, brushing them briefly, before he caught himself, and lowered it quickly. Yuzuru followed the movement with his eyes and visibly relaxed, sighing contently.  _Gotcha, Javi. Guess I finally caught you after all._  He smiled sweetly but meaningfully at Javier, lifting an eyebrow in challenge, then turned and sashayed out of the room, two pairs of eyes watching his retreating form.

Raya pursed his lips in admiration.

“So how long till he's legal?”

“You have a boyfriend don't you?” Javier snapped, without meaning to.

“Whoa, relax!” Raya raised his arms, palms outwards, in defeat. “Of course I do. I also think that sharing is caring!” he said, just to test the limits of Javier's patience, and giggling when Javier looked at him incredulously. “Listen, Yuzuru already seems like a handful, even if he’s so young. I'd watch myself if I were you, Javi.”

“Please, it's not what you think-“

“Oh? Then how is it? Tell me, I'm curious.”

“I don't feel like it”, Javier answered shortly, and turned away to gather his things.

“Suit yourself”, Raya shrugged. “But maybe you should know Yuzu has been giving  _me_  some suggestive looks. I asked him out and he refused, but maybe that's his way of playing hard to get.”

“Maybe you should stop thinking with your dick”, Javier replied, with some annoyance. “The suggestive looks were probably just him judging your triple axel, like - really  _hard.”_

Javier emphashized the last word on a fake moan, and Raya laughed pleasantly, taking no offense at the jibe.

“So I take it no boys’ night this weekend?”

“No, I'll be there as usual.”

“What am I missing? Aren't the two of you dating?”

“No”, Javier admitted.

“Whoa. Then what I just saw was...”

“A first, yeah...”

“Whoa!” Raya repeated, grinning ear to ear. “So...what does it mean, then? Will you date him or not?”

“It doesn't have to mean anything. He still doesn't want to date me, so I guess this makes us  _not together_.”

“Maybe he just wants to wait until he turns 18 because he's not sure he can control himself around you”, Raya said, with the same shit-eating grin.

“I'm sure it's like you said, he likes to play hard to get and wants me eating out of his palm. Well, he can wait”, Javier said, with a certainty he did not feel. “I'm not gonna play his game.” He turned away, signalling the end of the conversation.

Raya snickered and rolled his eyes.

“Sure”, he mouthed under his breath.

Javier slowly made his way towards the shower, still trying to decipher the briefly felt taste and scent lingering on his lips. A mix of something sweet and flowery was the first impression, followed by a base note of something spicy and earthy like black pepper – a white rose tumbled through warm soil. An exercise in contrasts.  _Yuzuru._

 

Javier was true to his word. No matter how Yuzuru teased and challenged, he did not allow Yuzuru the satisfaction of seeing Javier beg or initiate himself any further secret tryst in the locker room. Javier realized that a sure way to get and hold Yuzuru’s attention was  _not_ to let him have his way. It wasn’t only Yuzuru who liked having the upper hand, and the fact that Yuzuru beat Javier often enough on ice was already irritating. Sometimes Javier caught Yuzuru’s dark intense gaze fixed on him with barely concealed annoyance of his own, and he felt like laughing. He knew that Yuzuru’s considerable pride also prevented him from taking that first step.

But Javier still  _wanted_. He  _craved._ His hands were drawn to touch Yuzuru’s body, as if magically compelled, finding all of Javier’s favourite places and settling there, with a lingering persistence that was a little more than friendly. Yuzuru alternated by encouraging these touches and mirroring them right back and evading them coyly, with easy smiles that could almost pass as innocent. And still he refused Javier’s invitations to hang out.

Javier couldn’t understand why. He knew Yuzuru liked him, or at least strongly suspected he did. And dating didn’t necessarily mean having a relationship, just getting to know each other, without pretenses. And Javier was genuinely curious to know Yuzuru better, get an honest glimpse behind the various masks he always seemed to wear. It was more than lust that could be satisfied by a quickie in the locker room showers – it was fascination, or even – Javier didn’t want to admit that to himself yet – maybe even love.

A love that was maybe born out of that very unreachable attraction, out of the very mystery that Yuzuru was so keen to perpetuate.

 

On the day that Yuzuru turned 18, his mother allowed him to have sake. Yuzuru drank happily, but then felt sick almost immediately. His skin itched and he had trouble breathing, like an impending asthma attack. He went to sleep angry and dejected, thinking that for sure a normal life wasn’t his to live. More than ever, he decided to dedicate himself wholly to his skating, and devote all his energy and time on the upcoming Olympics.

 

Yuzuru’s persistent refusals to socialize, not only with Javier, but with literally everyone who asked him, regardless of gender and intent, did not pass unnoticed, and even Brian remarked upon them at some point.

“This is too much”, Brian said one day. “I’m going to start pointedly suggesting, as a coaching advice, that gaining some  _life experience_  is what Yuzuru needs for his skating to improve.”

Javier looked at him with a raised eyebrow and Brian rolled his eyes.

“He’s too sheltered. It’s not good for him.”

“Sure”, Javier agreed, snickering.

“You can thank me later.”

 

But nothing changed. Yuzuru and Yumi nodded dutifully and bowed, agreeing politely to everything that Brian was saying. And still Yuzuru refused Javier's - and indeed, everyone's offers to hang out, no matter how innocuous. Offers to have ice cream were rejected just as definitely as offers to hang out in disreputable clubs. Yuzuru was an unassailable fortress, and at least Javier could comfort himself with the idea that no one seemed to be reaching through to him.

Meanwhile, Yuzuru was content to play the long game with Javier, secretly convinced that he couldn’t lose. It was a game among any others. Just that.

 

 

Yuzuru won the Olympics, and it was a moment of exhilaration and triumph. It didn't come without regrets, and his quad salchow still failed him. He had somehow conquered, his will and determination, and maybe a bit of luck had paid off, but his mind was still working against him. In that moment he realized an almost physical need to reach out to Javier – he remembered their closeness on that hotel bed when Javier’s mere presence and touch guided him to sleep, and he wanted more – much more –  _everything_. It was a feverish, irrational, blind want that disregarded any and all calculations; indeed in those moments Yuzuru didn’t give a damn about pride or games. Released of the heavy burden of his expectations by having fulfilled his childhood dream and ultimate goal, he finally allowed his basic desires to take over.

 

It was late when he finally found Javier, hiding away from everyone, face pensive and dark, growing even darker when he saw Yuzuru.

Undeterred, Yuzuru came closer and pressed his entire lithe body, quivering with barely suppressed desire, against Javier's. He kissed his furrowed brow softly, with a newfound tenderness, wanting to soothe away the humiliation and hurt.

“I thought you were beautiful, Javi”, Yuzuru murmured, rubbing against him like a cat trying to leave his own scent onto a favourite toy. “I want us to make love”, he went on, lifting his eyes, heavy with need, to fix on Javier coaxingly.

“God...”, Javier reacted with a shudder, as he pushed his head blindly into Yuzuru's hand.

Yuzuru’s caresses turned more daring, as he slithered even closer. Javier left slow heated kisses along Yuzuru’s exposed neck, hands exploring his back, as if in a hypnotic trance.

“It's probably not a good idea”, Javier answered between kisses, “but I want this too, so much. I’m crazy for you, Yuzu, I... I think I love you.”

“Javi are you upset that i wo-“ Javier kissed him roughly on the mouth, cutting him off.

When they broke apart, they were both shaking with need. Yuzuru took Javier’s hand:

“Javi, come now, quickly. My mother is meeting with a sponsor and Brian is out with friends. But we must hurry-“

 

~

“That doesn’t matter, it doesn’t matter to me”, Javier repeated to Yuzuru (and to himself), a little later, their bodies wrapped around each other on Javier’s hotel bed. “We must never let jealousy and bitterness come between us.”

“No, never”, Yuzuru agreed, clinging to him greedily. “Do you really love me, Javi?”

“Yes!”

“Always? You must love me always, no matter what!”

“Always, no matter what”, Javier repeated, in a daze, opening a bottle of lube with trembling fingers.

Yuzuru took it from him.

“I’ll prepare myself”, he said. “You just watch.”

“Oh god”, Javier swallowed hard. Then a couple of minutes later: “Please hurry. I can’t take it anymore-”

“Yes”, Yuzuru nodded. “We don’t have much time.”

Yuzuru pulled Javier on top of him, thighs possessively wrapping around Javier’s hips, as Javier maneuvered himself inside his body, with a broken moan.

Yuzuru mirrored it with a gasp of his own, eyes widening in delighted surprise. He had missed this. The heat, the intimacy, the sounds of pleasure, the feeling of being taken and worshiped. Now –  _now_  he was someone’s whole world, he was a god to whom due tribute was paid.

In the beginning, Javier was so lost and excited that his thrusts were shallow, almost sloppy, completely missing Yuzuru’s secret spot. Yuzuru twisted and shifted, trying to flip them over and ride Javier. But then Javier straightened up, almost regretfully, from where he was half collapsed on top of Yuzuru, face buried in his neck. Javier looked down at Yuzuru with a new look in his eyes, almost steely, and Yuzuru shivered with excitement. Javier thrust in deeply and sharply, angling into Yuzuru’s body as to hammer against his prostate each time, hands on Yuzuru’s hips squeezing savagely. Yuzuru screamed in delight, arching his body with sensual abandon.

 _‘We must never let anything come between us’_ , Javier had said, and he probably did believe it in that moment.

But Yuzuru knew that the Javier who was fucking him so well right now, so deliciously intense and with merciless precision, was one who suffered for his crushing defeat, and laying claim on the winner like this was a sweet dark victory in itself.

There was laughter bubbling on Yuzuru’s lips because when Javier spilled inside him and came down from his orgasm, he was back to lavishing Yuzuru with tender looks and touches, his name whispered in that familar way, now strongly accented like an exotic prayer. Yuzuru held Javier to him and he laughed, wild and happy.

In that moment, he felt that everything was his – he ruled the world.


	3. Chapter 3

Yuzuru skated White Legend at the Olympics gala thinking about what Stephane had told him once. Stephane was right, Yuzuru could understand it now – there was something rushed and jerky about this program, like the swan hadn’t fully come into its own to embrace its winged nature, still anchored in human frailties and fighting against its feathered prison.

 _I need something different,_ Yuzuru reflected, _because now I am different, too._

And then it dawned on him – Johnny’s _Swan._

He would take it from Johnny and make it his own.

And he would not stop there.

No, he would never stop, as long as there were things of value in the world for him to turn to pure gold.

Yuzuru knew – that his greedy nature, his desire to be worshiped and have his name firmly written down in history would be forgiven only in light of his perfection. So perfect he must be.

 

~

Javier had almost entirely forgotten about one of their first interactions, when Yuzuru one day looked up at him mischievously, from where he had been sucking him off, letting Javier’s cock drop out of his mouth with a plop, licking his lips and asking:

“So do I get your blessing now?”

“...What?” Javier asked, trying to force some blood back up into his dazed brain.

“Your blessing”, Yuzuru repeated, breath ghosting over Javier’s sensitive cock. “For the quad sal,” he clarified, stressing his words with a brief kitten lick.

Javier’s mind struggled to free some neurons from their pleasure chains so he could work out whatever it was that Yuzuru was talking about, and finally remembered himself telling a coltish wide-eyed Yuzuru cheekily: “It needs my blessing to work.’

“...Oh...”, Javier reacted. “But... you’re still not dating me”, he said, spotting a loophole.

Yuzuru made an angry little noise, like a snarl, mouth again full of cock. He hollowed his cheeks, sucking energetically until Javier’s knees started trembling. Then Yuzuru dropped the cock out of his mouth again, evading Javier’s wandering hands that wanted to grip his hair, and casually replied:

“We skipped the boring dating part and got straight to the fun stuff. So this is even better.”

“The dating part is not boring,” Javier found it in him to complain, despite his pitiful state, brought almost to the edge and left hanging there. “Anyway, it’s what I asked for, and not this. You can date someone and not fuck them. Now please get your mouth back on my cock.”

“Mmmno”, Yuzuru answered petulantly, rising to his feet. “I don’t think so. I don’t think I like you anymore, Javi”, he snickered, and turned away.

Javier grabbed Yuzuru’s waist, but then tripped over his own feet, pants pooled around his ankles. Thankfully, they managed to land on the bed, collapsing in a fit of giggles.

Yuzuru ran his hands through Javier’s hair, laughing helplessly, his mouth wide open. Javier kissed the corner of his moon-crescent crinkly eyes.

“You know I love you”, Javier said, grinning, but on a serious tone. “So I would give you anything, not just the quad sal. But if it makes you happy, then you can have my blessing”, he said solemnly. “Here you go. It comes in the form of a kiss.”

True to his word, Javier leaned in to capture Yuzuru’s mouth in a deep kiss – Yuzuru's lips were swollen and raw from sucking cock, and they moved underneath his own in delicious synchronicity. The taste – Yuzuru’s own taste, which had so much intrigued Javier when they first kissed in the locker room, familiar by now, but no less exciting, mingled with Javier’s own taste, driving him crazy with desire and possessiveness. They both indulged in the kiss extensively, under the guise of ‘sealing their deal’.

When they eventually separated, Yuzuru’s eyes were shining. Javier smiled.

“There, now the quad sal is all yours.”

“Forever....?”

“For as long as I’m yours. So yes. Forever.”

Javier was in love, and he readily and easily promised forever. Yuzuru mirrored his smile, and covered his face in kisses.

“I love you, Javi.”

 

~

It was the summer of ice shows and new experiences.

Yuzuru was high on his big win and loved the attention and adoration that came with it. There was not a single person regarding him with any less than endearment, not a face that did not express awe and delight whenever he performed – that was at least what Yuzuru thought back in those days. 

He persuaded his mother to go home for a while, and see his father and sister whom she had been neglecting in favour of looking after Yuzuru.

“I have proven in the best way that I am responsible, mother”, Yuzuru told Yumi. “By winning an Olympic gold medal.”

“Are you saying you don’t need me anymore?” Yumi asked him.

Yuzuru tsked in annoyance: even now, she would resort to her old ways of reassuring herself of her importance in her son’s life, of the unbreakable connection between the two of them.

“Of course I need you”, Yuzuru answered. “You will always be the most important person to me.”

It was exactly what Yumi wanted to hear, and also incidentally true.

Consequently, Yumi decided to loosen her reins for a while, and allow a 19-year old Yuzuru to feel a little independence. Even if Yuzuru hadn’t told her in so many words, she knew Javier had somehow acquired a greater role in Yuzuru’s life. Although initially disgruntled, she found herself gradually appeased by Javier’s protectiveness and solicitude towards her son. For all the time she had watched their interactions, she became convinced that Javier was a good kid. Little did she know that Yuzuru had big plans for that summer that did not include Javier.

One of the plans was acquiring a new exhibition program, one that reflected his newfound maturity. Another was getting to know a particular person better.

 

When Yuzuru told David Wilson of his decision to use Johnny Weir’s music for his Swan program as his new exhibition music, the latter nodded in understanding.

“Better than Notre Dame”, he teased.

“I want to steal it from him, but I want to do it _better_. I want to make it _mine_ ,” Yuzuru said. He was forced to be completely honest, because he needed David to understand the program had to be special, it had to go above and beyond.

To his surprise, David kept nodding.

“That is good. Some people can teach you. Other people – you have to steal from. As my own coach told me back in the day – craft can only be stolen, not taught.”

“And I want....to help with the choreo.”

David hesitated for a beat, a contrary look on his face. Yuzuru, eyes innocently widened, stared right back at him. David preferred big men like Javi Raya, there was no use playing the coy kitten with him in an attempt to sway him. Yuzuru would just have to make him see that he meant business.

“I feel very strongly about this program. And I have some ideas”, he said firmly. “I want this program to be one of my greatest achievements. An iconic program.”

 _And your name associated with it_ , _so you better play nice,_ were the unsaid words hanging in the air between them.   

David eventually seemed to untense.

“Bring me the music and the ideas you have – we will see what we can work out.”

A week from then, the true White Swan would unfold its magnificent wings for the first time.

And they all would watch.

Stephane with a wistful smile playing on his lips, _remembering_.

Johnny with an unreadable expression.

The myth of Yuzuru Hanyu was growing. Not content to rest on his laurels, he was showing everyone that this was where he belonged – forever striving higher, above everyone, on top of the world.

~

Javier crowded Yuzuru against the wall of the shower, kissing his wet collarbone.

Yuzuru moaned, and felt himself getting hard already. Javier’s raw unrepentant passion for him never failed to affect him like a potent drug.

“So I take it you liked my new program...?” Yuzuru asked, lightly.

“You are a genius”, Javier answered, words muffled, as he was unwilling to lift his lips from Yuzuru’s skin even for a moment. “So beautiful, my love.”

Yuzuru lifted Javier’s head and kissed him hungrily, wanting to taste those words straight from his lips.

 

But then again, Javier always told Yuzuru he was beautiful.

And in Yuzuru’s opinion, most of those instances certainly did not warrant it.

When they were wrapping up practice and Yuzuru was exhausted and cranky, red and sweaty from exertion.

When Yuzuru cried, with big, messy tears of frustration that all the pain and effort somehow wasn’t _enough_ , not even bothering to hide his misery anymore in front of his rinkmate, because Javier knew him and he _understood_ all too well.

When Yuzuru was fast asleep, hair ruffled and one eye twitching half-open, mouth agape and drooling on the pillow – Javier would still wake him up with sweet kisses and tell him he was beautiful.

Yuzuru always felt a pang in his chest during those times – one that had nothing to do with his constant quest for perfection, for achieving beauty as an unshakable standard, (recognized by everyone, regardless of personal preference) – but one that had everything to do with Javi, and whatever Javi meant for him. Yuzuru was still working that out.

“You are spectacular even when you come crashing down”, Javier told him once, “your failure too, is honest and beautiful.”

Yuzuru had blinked at him, momentarily shaken, because such wrong words had no right to feel so good.

 

So it was that even now, as he was clutching Javier to him, moaning as their erections pressed together hotly, bodies melting into each other, naked and wet, Yuzuru thought that there was someone else’s opinion that he craved to hear, someone who had no reason to worship him, someone who could choose to hurt Yuzuru with his brutal honesty, but onto whose every word Yuzuru would still hang like a starstruck child.

 

And it was that person that Yuzuru would seek backstage that evening, and stop in front of him, wide eyes lit up with excitement.

“Did you like my new program?” Yuzuru asked breathlessly.

“Hmmm, yes. The ecstasy of suffering,” Evgeni Plushenko nodded, approvingly. “It was masterful, spellbinding.”

Yuzuru shivered imperceptibly with the pleasure of being praised.

“Is there anything that can be done better?”

“I don’t think even Johnny could do it better”, Evgeni answered slyly, to test Yuzuru’s reaction. “What?” he teased, when he saw Yuzuru blush. “That is what you wanted, isn’t it? To surpass him? To make it your own?”

Yuzuru nodded.

“Well, you succeeded. The dying swan – one last song, one last leap, before eternal silence. It is dramatic, and you make good use of that drama. People enjoy love stories, but secretly they enjoy tragedies more. Better if you mix them. Speaking of which, my boy ... are you really ready to break your back for doing the cruel Bielmann? Your flexibility is astounding, but I can assure you that it will take its toll... It is a torment, you know...”

Evgeni’s fingers brushed Yuzuru’s spine with patronizing but fond familiarity, as if assessing the hidden strength of a favourite racehorse.

“I am ready to break anything.....to be like you,” Yuzuru answered boldly.

Evgeni’s breath caught in his throat momentarily and he swallowed with difficulty. Unconsciously, his chest puffed up with pride. He pulled back slightly and took Yuzuru’s face in his hands, eyes roaming greedily over the younger’s features, as if searching for something. Yuzuru willed himself to meet his idol’s gaze unflinchingly, daring him to find _it_ , even as he couldn’t help trembling slightly in the forceful grip.

“You can ask for anything”, Evgeni finally said, “and if it’s in my power to give, I’ll help you.”

Yuzuru took a deep breath, and asked:

“Can I come to your room tonight?”

“Of course,” came the answer, startled but not displeased.

 

~

“You are beautiful as the white swan”, Evgeni resumed later, as they were up in his hotel room. “But I would like to see you as the black swan. I think there is a true black swan inside of you, waiting to be freed from its chains.”

The words were spoken passionately, and Yuzuru raised an inquiring eyebrow. There was something there beyond friendliness, beyond a mentor’s benevolent attention.

“Do you think that my inner black swan is enchained?” Yuzuru purred.

Evgeni nodded.

“You are keeping it chained, because you don’t want the people to see.”

There was some truth to this, yet also not. Yuzuru would never willingly hide anything that could make him great.

“Maybe I am keeping it merely hidden, so it can be seen only by those who _are worthy”,_ he baited.

There it was – this time without a shadow of a doubt – in Evgeni’s eyes, the unmistakable flicker of desire. Yuzuru smiled, vindicated.

“Maybe”, Evgeni agreed, carelessly. He cleared his throat. “You still have much to learn. Working the crowd – it is satisfying, but difficult.”

“Teach me!” Yuzuru challenged.

Evgeni waved a hand.

“It can’t be taught. You are either born with it or you aren’t.”

“I think your talents are wasted unless you work hard, until you pay for perfection in sweat and blood,” Yuzuru countered.

“That is also true.”

“How I can set free my wild black swan? What do I need to do?”

Evgeni leaned forward.

“How badly do you want to win? How badly do you crave perfection? To be the best?”

“As badly as I need to breathe”, Yuzuru answered honestly.

“Then this is what you must think about – if winning is as necessary to you as breathing, then you must keep that in your mind at all times. And in time you’ll find you are watching yourself become _it_.”

“ _It_?” Yuzuru echoed.

“It is hard to explain in words”, Evgeni said, frustrated.

Yuzuru edged closer.

“Try”, he insisted. “Or try even to explain _not in words_.”

“Like a royalty who, even if devoid of their crown, one can guess their noble heritage from their walk, from their core strength, chin up, shoulders down, neck long, fingers poised, eyes shining, thinking of the enemies they smote yesterday and those they will smite tomorrow – all the while smiling a deadly smile.”

“Are you like this?”

Another flicker.

“I used to be like this”, came the evasive answer.

“Do you hate me because I’ve replaced you?” Yuzuru asked, plainly.

Evgeni’s eyes hardened, as he stared Yuzuru down.

“You can never take from me what I have already achieved. And you cannot _take_ something that is freely given. I do want to crush you as a competitor, but I am giving you my blessing as my successor.”

“Give it to me, then. Give it to me, _truly_.”

Evgeni leaned in, breathing hard, both excited and tentative. His apprehension turned to dust as he felt Yuzuru melt against him, in a kiss that was both bold and submissive at the same time. Yuzuru felt perfect – eager and curious and in reverent awe of what was happening between them, an enthusiastic participant deliberately relinquishing control.

“Do you want to crush me now, or bless me?” Yuzuru asked with a suggestive smile when they were both naked.

“Who says I can’t do both?” Evgeni replied with an answering smirk, and then proceeded to do just that, maneuvering Yuzuru’s slender body in the desired position. It was with relish and a little cruelty that he claimed him. Yuzuru cried out, wide-eyed, in painful ecstasy.

It lasted hours, and by the end Yuzuru had to deem himself thoroughly satisfied. There was a deep knowledge of someone that you could only acquire using one’s body. Words were so often not enough. Bared in more ways than one, at the moment of bliss, the ultimate connection – the ultimate knowledge – like distilling one’s essence to one single, supreme moment.

The sound of a flickering lighter made Yuzuru startle from his post-orgasmic lethargy. Evgeni lit a cigarette and took a long drag.

“I don’t do this often”, he said sheepishly, gesturing towards the cigarette. “I picked up the habit when I was little. Mishin slapped it out of my mouth when he caught me once, slapped _me_ too...”

Yuzuru waited for more, but Evgeni only shook his head, with amused fondness.

“Javi smokes too sometimes”, Yuzuru offered, unthinkingly, in the hope of hearing more.

Evgeni turned toward him.

“Are you in love with Javi?”

“Y- y, no –“, Yuzuru answered, thrown off by the sudden question. “I don’t know”, he finished, lamely.

Evgeni nodded, with a surprisingly friendly smile, and caressed his hair. Now that the desire had been quenched, the patronizing touch returned.

“You are. It’s alright. Javi is a good boy. I wish you happiness. But I doubt that someone like Javi can understand someone like you.”

Yuzuru frowned, because now _he_ didn’t understand. Javier was different. He felt that despite everything they’ve been through, he didn’t know Javier well, but he wanted to, and was desperate for some insight.

But then Evgeni got a call, and he had to go, and they departed with fond smiles and meaningful looks.

In the end, Yuzuru remembered only the success and pleasure of that encounter, not unlike the feeling of being crowned the new king.

 

~

On the last day of the ice show, Johnny took Yuzuru aside and hugged him, telling him with tears in his eyes that he had made the Swan program his own, and everyone will soon forget about ‘ _little old him’_.

Yuzuru tried to protest, but Johnny shushed him.

“I can’t be angry at you”, he spoke up a little manically, “I can’t – you are too much like myself, it’s like hating myself, and god knows how that already eats at me – so please forgive me. I have to tell you that I know about Stephane, and now about Evgeni too  – but it’s alright, I know how to keep a secret—“

What Yuzuru heard instead was _‘I’ll tell whom I chose and when I choose, and you can’t stop me.’_   He wrung his hands, desperately seeking a way out.

“Johnny please – I didn’t mean to hurt you, I never did...”

“And yet you somehow do, just by existing”, Johnny answered, bitterly, and Yuzuru understood. “But you can’t help it, I suppose.”

“Are we enemies, then?” Yuzuru said, quietly, renouncing his pleading, because he sensed it would get him nowhere this time.

“Yes”, Johnny answered, with equal seriousness. “So of course that means that whenever we meet we will kiss with affectation and pretend to laugh together, as if we share a delicious secret.”

“I see,” Yuzuru replied.

“Don’t worry – it will mostly be a cold war. I won’t come after you guns blazing unless you do it first. I’m not about to commit social suicide.”

They nodded again at each other, then Johnny sashayed out of the room. Yuzuru felt a stab of fear – despite Johnny’s last reassurance, he knew full well how unpredictable the man could be.

 

~

“You are the music. Yuzuru. You are feeling each note, directing it. You are not following the music, or reacting to it – you and the music are one”, Jeff was enthusiastically explaining. “You aren’t playing anyone in this program, except the music itself. If this is too difficult, try to imagine a genius conductor in mad love with the music.”

“Maybe Chopin himself?” Yuzuru challenged.

Jeff broke into a gentle laugh.

“That’s good, aim high, you’ve earned that right.”

“I read about Chopin that he was best known for his technique that was unparalleled in his generation. That is also what I aim.”

“To be technically sound?”

Yuzuru shook his head.

“To be so technically perfect, that it is perceived as art. I feel I can really do this. I feel invincible.”

“Wow”, Jeff said, reluctantly impressed. “I can only offer you my humble services”, he said, a little amused, but serious about helping. “But be careful, Yuzu. There is such a thing as _hubris_ , too.”

Yuzuru would have cause to remember Jeff’s words later that year. But for now, his eyes sparkled with a familiar burning challenge.

“Teach me how. I will do it all like you teach me.”

Jeff studied the boy in front of him, fierce and lithe in his black training gear, his entire body humming with youthful energy and brimming potential. There was already an Olympic gold medal to his name. How far still did he want to go?

“I really feel like I can choreograph anything for you”, Jeff mused. “I know you’ll do it full justice. You have the will and the spirit and the body to pull it off. Your talent is – well, to be honest, it’s rather frightening sometimes.”

Jeff chuckled, and lowered his eyes, rubbing at his neck awkwardly, with a slight blush.

Yuzuru took two steps forward.

“I want us to be friends – special friends”, he said meaningfully, with a slight raise of his eyebrows. He couldn’t read Jeff very well, just like he couldn’t wholly read Javier. Jeff seemed campy and openly sociable, and Yuzuru could glimpse no darkness in him that he could manipulate – at least none that he could yet see.

Jeff threw him an openly heated look, then avoided Yuzuru’s eyes again.

“Believe me, I would like nothing better”, Jeff muttered. “But I have a feeling you’d swallow me whole, then spit me out as soon as you decide you’re done with me.”

Yuzuru startled, Jeff’s words painting a vivid and apt description of the process.

“Don’t get me wrong”, Jeff hurried to add, afraid he had hurt Yuzuru’s feelings. “I do think you are a wonderful person. But perhaps I am recognizing my own limitations – maybe I’m the one too eager to be consumed. It would end with me ugly-crying into my latte. And for the pretty person that I am, I am a very ugly crier”, Jeff ended, trying to inject some humour into the situation.

Yuzuru didn’t know what to reply. The rejection was implied, but it was skillfully disguised as a compliment towards Yuzuru and a subtle dig at Jeff himself.

“I like you very much”, Yuzuru finally said.

“And I like you too”, Jeff answered, with palpable relief. “I hope we can be friends. Not _special friends_ ”, he rolled his eyes amiably. “But friends, yes. I would love that. You have my promise that I will teach you everything I know.”

 

~

Brian opened the door to the locker room abruptly and stopped dead in his tracks.

His two favourite pupils were there.

They were wrapped around each other, Javier’s hand on Yuzuru’s collarbone in a possessive gesture, and Yuzuru’s arms clutching at Javier’s back, their heads tilted as they kissed hungrily.

They were both beautiful. And vulnerable. Cheeks flushed and lips swollen and red, eyes half-closed, heavy with desire and the joyful burst of love.

Brian felt a bittersweet pang recalling the carefree rapture of youth – something that he himself had lost and would now forever remain out of reach. He watched as Yuzuru’s delicate-looking fingers were crushing the fabric of Javier’s shirt, and felt a familiar stirring in his groin, sweet and heavy, the desire outweighing the potency. He wanted to stride towards them, crush the fragile wrists of the younger Japanese man into his grip and swallow his moans himself.

He retreated quietly into the shadows and waited for them to finish. It took them a while, and Brian both blessed and cursed in his mind the stamina of youth. Disgusted with himself, yet avidly enthralled, Brian wanted it to be over quickly, yet also not. He couldn’t help but devour with his eyes the sight of their lovemaking, as he sweated freely, wiping his brow with a handkerchief, immersed in his silent torment.

Javier eventually dressed and took his leave with lingering kisses and touches, as if Yuzuru’s body was pulling him back every time like a magnet.

‘Parting is such sweet sorrow....’ Brian mimicked with exasperation, ‘For goodness sake...,’ he rolled his eyes as Javier returned for the sixth (according to Brian’s calculations) kiss.

After Javier left, Yuzuru wiped himself down and dressed languidly, pulling his t-shirt on just as Brian couldn’t take it anymore, and made his presence known.

“Yuzuru”, he called out, sternly.

“....Yes?”

He had the audacity to look _innocent,_ and Brian felt something cruel rise up inside him.

“Look, I am afraid I have no choice but to let your mother know what you and Javier are doing in locker rooms. She will be disappointed, of course, but you leave me with no choice”, he repeated, firmly.

“My mom knows about Javi and me”, Yuzuru cut him off.

“Oh, she does, does she? That you’re _fucking_ in a public space?”

Yuzuru flinched at the coarseness of the word.

“How would she feel if that sort of thing got out to the press?”

Yuzuru paled.

“Are you ... threatening me?”

Brian sighed deeply.

“I believe it is in your best interest to point out the consequences of your actions”, he parried, on an injured tone.

Yuzuru sized him up, calculating.

“So you watched us... did you?”

Brian reddened.

“That is not....”

“You watched us and waited.... for us to finish. Was it fine to wait? How did you pass the time? Did you enjoy it maybe? What did you think about?”

Brian shook his head. This was ridiculous. He was sweating again, like a schoolboy caught in a lie.

“What did you want to do?” Yuzuru insisted, and Brian crumbled.

“I’m... not a good man...,” he mumbled, staring fixedly down.

“No...”, Yuzuru smiled triumphantly, “ _no, you’re not_. But that’s fine, Brian, because _neither am I_....”

Brian dared to look up, momentarily confused.

“What do you think about me?” Yuzuru demanded.

“You’re.... you’re a talented, hardworking....”, Brian began.

“ _No_ ” – Yuzuru interrupted, annoyed.

He huffed and leaned over, fingers sliding up to grasp Brian’s shirt and crumple it, unconsciously recreating the earlier scene that caught Brian’s interest. His little teeth bared, he descended onto Brian’s ear, tugging gently, but with the hint of a threat.

“What do you _really_ think – about _me_?” Yuzuru whispered, persuasively.

Brian breathed heavily, closing his eyes, and going boneless against him.

“I.... You’re... always delivering above and beyond expectation and I’m just....confused.... intimidated. I... I don’t feel like a coach with you.”

Yuzuru hummed.

“How do you feel with me?” he prodded further.

“...Like you’re in control and I’m just being swept away by the force of your gravity.”

Brian dared a look at Yuzuru out of the corner of his eye.

Yuzuru returned it, the side view gaze out of his phoenix eyes making him look alluring and dangerous at the same time. He did not seem in any way surprised by Brian’s words, only quietly satisfied.

“You are powerful and you know exactly how much. You thrive on that power”, Brian continued, a sudden revelation.

Yuzuru rewarded him by running his teeth sensually around the curve of Brian’s ear, suckling at it softly. Brian moaned brokenly.

“Do you think I’m beautiful?” Yuzuru whispered.

Brian pressed his palm firmly over his budding erection, desperate and uncertain whether he was trying to provide himself some relief or to cover it in shame.

“You are very attractive”, he mumbled.

“Do you want me?”

“I shouldn’t. It’s wrong.”

Yuzuru snickered.

“It was wrong to watch us....”, he reminded Brian. “And it was wrong to try and blackmail me”, Yuzuru said threateningly. “You will tell my mother nothing, and the press will hear nothing of this.”

“Yuzu...of course I won’t! What kind of man do you think I am?” Brian defended himself. “I would never tell the press...”

“- A bad man”, Yuzuru interrupted. “A bad, desperate man. But because I am feeling generous, you will get what you want today.”

 _From now on, I will have this man wrapped around my little finger_ , Yuzuru thought, as he lost his clothes again swiftly. _I’m sure it will prove very useful._

“You are not allowed to touch”, Yuzuru said, with a cruel smile, as he sank on Brian’s cock, back to him. Brian groaned at the feeling, wanting nothing more than to squeeze at that tempting ass, that swallowed his cock rhythmically.

“Only Javi gets to touch,” Yuzuru continued, as he slammed himself down with purpose. There was vindictive anger in every bit of his movement – he had sensed Brian’s shameful weakness and was not above exploiting it, but Yuzuru himself would get nothing out of it. He wasn’t even hard as he skillfully rode Brian – there was nothing he wanted from Brian, nothing Brian could offer him, except his unwavering devotion. 

Brian gasped – he was already embarrassingly close to coming. He found he couldn’t help it, his trembling fingers lifting as if by a will of their own, brushing Yuzuru’s protruding shoulder blades almost reverently, at odds with the punishing rhythm that Yuzuru was setting.

“No touching”, Yuzuru growled, half turning to slap his hands away. “Or I stop.”

“Yuzu”, Brian winced, “have mercy, please.”

“Mercy is only for good men”, Yuzuru replied derisively, as he rode him furiously to completion, Brian spilling inside him with an anguished cry.

“You tell Javi nothing”, Yuzuru stated evenly, as he put his clothes back on, watching Brian who was still gasping, struggling to regain his composure in the aftermath. “If you do, I’ll tell him you forced me. Which isn’t far from the truth. You tried to blackmail me.”

Brian shook his head in distress.

“No, Yuzu no – I never would have... I’m sorry. I never.... Forgive me, I-”

“You’re a weak man”, Yuzuru interrupted with a sneer. “It’s okay. I forgive you.”

He extended his hand, and Brian shook it, with a barely suppressed shudder.

 

The next day, Javier arrived for practice late as usual, with his ever-present coffee cup and sheepish, blinding smile, and Brian carefully avoided his eyes, and muttered only a half-arsed plea to get on the ice as soon as possible.

Javier did a double take and looked at his coach strangely, but in the end he just shrugged, with a carefree smile. Javier’s smile only widened when he spotted Yuzuru already on the ice, wearing his usual intense expression like an extra layer of Under Armour – Javier waved at him, and Yuzuru’s intensity softened momentarily into a sweet serenity as he laid eyes on Javier.


	4. Chapter 4

Javier didn’t turn around as Yuzuru entered the room. He was standing by the window, staring outside, as if lost in thought.

“Heeeeey!” Yuzuru greeted, sneaking up on him to hug him from behind. He sighed into Javier’s curls and inhaled deeply. “Whatcha doing?” he asked, fingers already poised at Javier’s waist for a tickle.

An inaudible murmur was Javier’s only reaction. Yuzuru pulled back slightly, because something was wrong. Usually, Javier would be all over him by now, retaliating with tickles and pinches and wet slobbering kisses on every bit of skin that he could reach, as Yuzuru laughed and screeched in delight. But instead, Javier just stood there, impassive – his unaccustomed immobility awakening a strange new fear in Yuzuru’s heart.

 

“How is _Plu-sama_ these days?” Javier finally opened his mouth to utter, mimicking with exaggerated effect the nickname Yuzuru had for Evgeni Plushenko.

Yuzuru’s fingers abruptly froze their restless drumming on Javier’s hips, as his mind worked to make sense of the question.

“I haven’t seen him since last summer”, Yuzuru answered, honestly.

“Since the summer, yes”, Javier nodded. “ _Since you fucked him_.”

Yuzuru made a noise of outrage _. Johnny –_ it flashed through his mind in a moment of clarity – _it must have been him who told -_ he wanted to ask Javier and ascertain that his assumption was correct, but he got no chance to. As if a dam had been released, Javier broke into angry expletives in Spanish, a tirade of unfamiliar words that Yuzuru couldn’t answer.

“Javi, please-“, Yuzuru raised a hand to stop the onslaught.

“Are you going to deny it, Yuzuru??”

“What happened then between me and him has nothing to do with you”, Yuzuru answered calmly.

“ _Puta madre_! You cheated on me. How does it have nothing to do?”

“I admired and respected him a lot. I wanted to show my feelings of gratitude and to-“

“You _admired_ him so you _fucked_ him??”

“Not only that. I also wanted to learn from him. I wanted to gain a better understanding of him-”

“So I guess I was good only as long as I could teach you the quad sal, eh?”

“No, Javi. With you it’s different.”

“You don’t even regret it”, Javier realized, his anger mounting. “There’s not an ounce of shame on your face...”

“Why should I be ashamed?” Yuzuru replied, getting angry in turn. “I tell you, there is no reason for you to be upset, that was something else, and this – what we have – is different-“

“You think that you’re so above and beyond the rest of us”, Javier spit out, “that normal rules don’t apply to you, huh? You think you can just play with all of us,  and do whatever you want? Go ahead and step on corpses then, on your way to fame!” he yelled in Yuzuru’s face. “But not on mine, not on mine! Fuck this. You’re not worth my time”, he turned on his feet and left abruptly, without another look at Yuzuru, slamming the door behind him.

Yuzuru stared for a while after him, rooted to the spot, in complete disbelief.

Slowly, he slid to the floor, as if felled by an anguish he couldn’t explain or fight against. It hurt to be rejected – of course it did, but it hurt even more to be rejected by Javier, to be deprived of his closeness, of his passionate unconditional love, his kindness and humour, his sweetness, of everything that made Yuzuru light up in Javier’s presence.

Yuzuru lost track of time as he stood there on the floor, ruminating. Then, as complete darkness descended onto the room, he finally stood up, wincing, his muscles rebelling from the uncomfortable position they had been forced in.

_This is fine,_ he decided, eyes glazed and dull. _One less distraction. Go ahead and leave, Javier. I will go on fighting without you. Plushenko-sensei was right. You don’t understand me._

 

 

“Did you and Javier fight?” Brian asked Yuzuru, unsettled, on the third day of observing how his two best pupils uncharacteristically kept to different parts of the rink, carefully avoiding each other.

“It is nothing”, Yuzuru snapped. “I must focus on the new season. I am the Olympic champion. I have to prove my worth.”

“Right”, Brian agreed, with a tentative smile of approval.

Ever since their brief sexual encounter, Brian had been treating Yuzuru with careful deference. There was a sparkle of almost fear in Brian’s eyes sometimes, and Yuzuru wondered if Brian was afraid Yuzuru would tell, or Brian was afraid of his own foolish hope that it might somehow happen again.

“We’re off to China next week”, Brian continued, rubbing his hands enthusiastically. “The Grand Prix season is starting. This is exciting!”

Yuzuru regarded him blankly. He had started again to have trouble sleeping. A shadow was weighing on his mind, a nagging feeling that he wasn’t good enough, that he was weak, and he would crash and burn.

 

Sleep came to Yuzuru at a heavy price these days, ushering in unsettling dreams. One night, he dreamed he was trapped in a burning building – a large, lavish construction, like a cathedral. His steps, as he tried to run outside echoed in the emptiness. But he didn’t make it outside. Unknown hands grabbed him and dragged him back in, further than he’d been before, dangerously close to the heat. Yuzuru tried to pry those hands off him, but he realized there was nothing there, just the ghost pressure of fingers on his skin – and yet he was dragged backwards still. A disembodied voice snarled cruelly into his ear: “Your bed must be all warmed up by now. Have a _good long sleep_!”

Yuzuru woke up abruptly, with a cry on his lips and tears already on his face. He must have been crying in his sleep. His heart was beating fast in pure terror, and for a while, as he lay in the darkness, trying to calm down, his loneliness seemed unbearable. His fingers involuntarily inched towards his phone, cursing his weakness, because he wanted nothing more in that moment than to call Javier and listen to his voice.

Instead of calling, Yuzuru sent Javier a long message:

“You are one of the most important people in my life and I want to explain myself to you, even if you don’t want to have anything more to do with me. There is knowledge and power that I want to gain over the people (yes, there have been more than just Plushenko) that I have taken to bed. Besides the interest in what they have to offer me – as mentors or otherwise, I have no feelings for them and I don’t do repeat encounters. But you are different, Javi – you have always been special to me in a way that is matchless. I can’t control my feelings towards you the way I can control all other aspects of my life. The happiness (and pain) you are able to make me feel are always surprising in their intensity. Right now, I am tortured by the pain of your absence. You cannot be this cruel. Please reach out to me! I don’t want anything specific from you, just to feel the warmth of your smile again, your calming presence. Please tell me we can at least remain friends! My feelings for you are unchanged and I think they always will be. I love you, Javi.

PS: The quad sal – remember what you said? I can still jump it even half asleep, so does that mean that in your heart, you are still mine?”

It was 3AM, the witching hour, when Yuzuru sent that message. He didn’t expect for Javier to see it or read it right away, but an answer came much too soon for Yuzuru’s liking, who had spent a whole half hour agonizing over his own message.

“I don’t think you know what love is. But we can be friends, if this is what you want” – was Javier’s curt reply.

Yuzuru tossed his phone aside, then the pillows, and the blanket, off the bed. He threw himself on the floor, relishing the feel of the hard wood digging into his back, and eventually fell asleep.

 

~

“Are you sure you’ll be alright without me?” his mother asked him anxiously, as she packed for Yuzuru who would leave tomorrow for the first grand prix event of the season.

“Yes, mom”, Yuzuru said automatically.

“Because I can still come, you know!” she said, hopefully.

“ _No_ , mom”, Yuzuru said, definitively. “I am the Olympic champion. I don’t want people to see you _doting_ on me.”

That was perhaps a little cruel, but Yuzuru was far from caring in those moments. He was busy with calculations and estimations. It should be easy for him to win this competition, but he knew that he shouldn’t take anything for granted. A great start after the Olympic season was paramount. He needed to establish his dominance from the very beginning, so that the seeds of fear would start to grow in the hearts of his rivals.

Yuzuru closed his eyes and took a deep breath, getting ready to visualize the free program again in his mind. He could see himself so vividly as if he was watching himself on a big 3D screen. He mouthed the lyrics at the beginning:

_I am the angel of music_

_Come to me angel of music_

 

 

 

~

Yuzuru didn’t remember the crash.

Only the air getting knocked out of him as his chin slammed onto the ice – he tried to breathe only to inhale a mouthful of ice instead, his lungs constricting on emptiness.

_I’m dying_ – he thought.

He twisted onto himself in pure panic, trying to remember the exercises his trainer had taught him to get his breathing under control.

He barely registered screams around him, and the request for skaters to clear the ice. He turned onto his back, chest heaving, taking in desperate gulps of air that somehow failed to enter his lungs.

It felt like he was alone forever – but in reality it couldn’t have been more than seconds -  he was still struggling to breathe through the delayed pain from the impact, black spots hovering at the edge of his vision, feeling like he might lose consciousness soon. 

He came back to himself when he felt hands on him, people speaking to him – they were coming to help him – and that was enough to shake him out of his near panic attack. He didn’t want to appear weak so with the last of his strength, he struggled to his feet and left the ice on his own two feet.

He wasn’t dead – so that meant only one thing: the fight was not over.

 

~

Amid the questions of what year it was, what month, what was his name, what is 2 plus 5, which Yuzuru answered haltingly, but with a serene certainty – after the hysterical phone conversation with his mother, who begged for reassurances that he was okay and he wouldn’t do anything crazy – only one question remained to be addressed: Would Yuzuru skate, or would he withdraw.

“I think you should withdraw, and go to the hospital for a serious check-up”, the medic advised.

“Isn’t that what all those questions were for?” Brian interrupted, worriedly. “To determine if he has a concussion or not? And he answered them correctly.”

“....yes”, the medic admitted. “But only the tests at the hospital can truly determine the extent of his injuries.”

“What do you want to do?” Brian turned to Yuzuru.

“I have to skate”, Yuzuru answered, even as he winced, his eyes dulling with pain.

“I don’t think it’s a good idea”, Brian said, immediately. “You obviously aren’t alright, what if you fall and hurt yourself worse...”

“I know how to fall”, Yuzuru answered mechanically.

“Yuzu, I think we should let this one go. I’m worried.”

“If we let this one go, we let the entire season go”, Yuzuru replied, annoyed that he had to spell it out. “I won’t make the GPF. The Olympic gold medalist who did not even make the GPF. I’ll be a joke.”

“But surely your health is more important. I think it’s one of my responsibilities as a coach to see to that.”

“ _No._ You _will_ let me skate”, Yuzuru told Brian fiercely, fierce dark eyes boring into limpid blue ones.

Brian stuttered, blushed and lowered his gaze:

“...As you wish, I mean....you – you do what you want.”

Yuzuru gave a slight, but triumphant smile. Of course, after their shameful tryst, Brian couldn’t deny him anything, even if Yuzuru could see his coach’s palpable worry and fear.

With only a few tears left to spare for the bitter injustice of the whole situation, Yuzuru stepped onto the ice, and as if by magic, he felt the fire return within him.

It burned suddenly so brightly that Yuzuru thought it would consume him, he felt it inside, a bright, almost overpoweringly warm glow, that made him almost scream in triumph. His trainer would tell him it was nothing but adrenaline, the – shot of the body poised and prepared for the last fight or flight (in Yuzuru’s case, it was both). But Yuzuru knew better – it was his spirit – his unfailing destiny, awoken to full greatness by the very pain and insurmountable obstacle – goading him to tear it down. And in that moment, he could – he _felt_ like he could.

Yuzuru knew his weak, trembling limbs couldn’t sustain his body enough to land the jumps – he felt he didn’t need to, as long as he could, by sheer force of will – rotate them. So he launched into them each time, with no hope to sustain the landing. By the end of the program, the falls ceased to hurt. The last two jumps were landed. It was over.

The exhilaration he felt at having fought through it all surpassed even the moment of Olympic triumph.

And the people’s hearts – they were his own now.

Let no one doubt him again – let no one – a stab of pain shot through his entire body and into his brain, like an electrical circuit, and for a moment, he lost his train of thought.

In the Kiss and Cry, Brian was shaking his head at him, in sympathy and awe.

“You’ll feel it tomorrow”, he said, wisely, but Yuzuru didn’t care. For now, he had conquered.

 

After Yuzuru returned to the hotel room, he noticed he had several missed calls and three messages from Javier, which he deleted immediately without reading.

Without bothering to take off his clothes, Yuzuru fell into a deep sleep, out of which he was abruptly shaken by a wave of nausea. An impossibly vicious abdominal pain coupled with a headache that felt like needles piercing through his brain, both briefly heralded yesterday but ignored through the adrenaline rush, were making it impossible for him to do anything except wimper in pain and disbelief like an animal. He tried to step out of bed, and almost fell over, his right ankle giving way under him, and this is how he became aware of the throbbing pain in his leg, as well. He crawled to the bathroom, feeling like his entire body was one raw nerve, ready to sink into unconsciousness at any second. Throwing up everything he had in him did nothing to ease the stomach pain, but worsened his headache, and he collapsed on the bathroom tiles. Yuzuru did not know how long he lay there, but through his haze, he eventually became aware of several knocks on his door, and amid them, Brian’s questioning voice. Shaking with the effort, he tried to sit up and gathered his entire remaining strength to scream for help.

~

When Yuzuru woke up, he was lying in a hospital bed, blissfully numb – the pain was gone, but so was most of his awareness. He frowned and tried to focus. What was he doing there? There was a competition, and there was a feeling that he did well, but he didn’t remember much.

He closed his eyes and thought of jumps and colours.

Triple axel was blue

Quad sal was yellow

Quad loop was violet

Those were the familiar ones.

Quad lutz was black, terrible and exciting.

Quad axel was white – a vision of the great unknown.

The colours reflected their images in his mind and the taste of the pain needed to conquer them.

He turned his head to the right, and saw his mother.

“Hi!” he said, and smiled.

“My baby”, she cried, bending half over his body to give him an awkward hug. “Don’t ever scare me like that!”

“What happened?” Yuzuru asked, tongue feeling heavy in his mouth.

“You don’t remember....? You had a crash, then insisted on skating....”

“Oh. Oh, but I was fine.”

She shook her head, sobbing.

“You aren’t fine, baby. You were very hurt. But it’s gonna be alright now. The doctors will look after you. We’ll get you better now.”

Her fingers gently combed through the strands of her son’s disheveled hair, smoothing it off his forehead, Yuzuru leaned blindly into the touch.

“There’s someone here to see you. Please be nice to him.”

Yuzuru expected Brian, but the door opened, and there was Javier, looking a little awkward and nervous, but with a crooked smile on his face.

“What are you doing here?” Yuzuru asked weakly.

“I didn’t want you to be alone.”

“My mother is here.”

“She called me, actually.”

Yuzuru snorted a little and rolled his eyes.

“She said you were ranting, and unsettled and thought you could use some reassurance.”

“I don’t want you to feel inconvenienced,” Yuzuru answered, stung. “And I wasn’t _ranting_. I don’t remember, but I’m sure I wasn’t.”

“So... I should go?” Javier asked.

“Do whatever you want”, Yuzuru shrugged.

“Then I will stay.”

 

Javier slept in the hospital by his side, he and Yuzuru’s mother taking turns so he would not be left alone.

Yuzuru had an allergic reaction to the anesthetic, he was sick and thought again he might die.

_Hubris,_ he remembered Jeff saying.

It was the punishment for a mortal who saw himself as equal to the gods.

But it was fine. In the stories, the people still defied the gods, even in the clutches of their torturers, even in the bowels of hell.

And Yuzuru also would never cower. He made peace with dying. He had won an Olympic medal. That would have to be enough.

Javier held him as he shivered and ranted about gods and natural disasters and medals.

Yuzuru tried to think of a colour for the feeling of Javier’s arms around him, but couldn’t.

“You are wrong, you know”, he told Javier. “I do love you.”

There was a lengthy pause, then he heard Javier reply: “I know.”

Yuzuru smiled, reassured.

Javier kissed his forehead.

“After you get better, we will go to Barcelona together.”

“Do you think I can make it to Barcelona?”

Javier paused again.

“I hope so.”

“What does this mean?”

“It means I love you, too.”

 

Of course, deep down inside himself, Yuzuru knew he wouldn’t die. Despite all evidence to the contrary and all his evident weaknesses, he had an unshakable faith in his own immortality, and a lurid awareness of his own destiny.

And everyone around him was caught up in it – his mother, alternately dreading and cheering for her son’s next impossible feat; Brian, hovering around his brilliant student, with mingled worry and awe; and Javier, always torn between rejecting Yuzuru and pulling him closer.

 

~

“I got you something”, Javier said shyly, a few months later. “A present. For winning here at the GPF, against all odds.”

“Oh?” Yuzuru reacted. He was still a little nervous around Javier, as if he still couldn’t believe that Javier had decided to renew their relationship. It had somehow been too easy. He had been ready to give up Javier entirely, and even find some bitter comfort in it. But his subsequent accident and injury led to Javier dropping everything to be by his side, and Yuzuru realized, that Javier didn’t really want to say goodbye, nor did he have any serious intention of doing so, despite his hurtful earlier words. Their break-up was a scene that was necessary so that Javier could salvage his wounded pride, and deal some hurt in turn. But despite his best efforts – and Yuzuru had seen it clearly when he mentioned the quad sal – Javier’s heart still belonged to Yuzuru.

Javier rummaged a little more than was necessary in his bag, then coughed awkwardly. Under Yuzuru’s leveled stare, he finally retrieved two items: leather hand restraints and a leather ball gag.

Yuzuru’s jaw dropped.

“I – thought maybe – we could make things more interesting?”

_Then maybe you wouldn’t go to other people_ – was left unsaid, but it lingered in the air between them, for Yuzuru to hear anyway.

Yuzuru swallowed and nodded.

“How do you know I like such things?” he inquired.

Javier shuffled his feet, blushing.

“From some of the sites you visited on the laptop...”, he mumbled. “I swear I didn’t mean to pry, but they popped up in the address bar when i searched for.... well for uh – more tame porn, actually...” Javier laughed, rubbing at his face. “This is awkward. I’m sorry. You should clear your history if –“

“That doesn’t bother me”, Yuzuru stated matter-of-factly. He watched Javier fidgeting with a slight smirk, not even a slight blush marring his pale countenance, at the revelation of his kinks being discovered.

Javier relaxed a little.

“So - well, basically the only thing I don’t know is how you want these used – on _you_ or – on – uh, _me_ , I suppose?” Javier’s voice went a little high at the end, laughing nervously to cover the fact that he was very uncomfortable of the idea of wearing a ball gag.

Yuzuru stared a little while more, then took pity on him.

“The loss of control in these scenes is an act”, he explained. “The scene is played out so that the submissive can focus on the pleasure as much as possible – blindfold, gags, restraints – they only have one purpose – to increase focus on the physical sensations. I said pleasure, but of course, that’s only partly it. There must also be pain.”

Javier frowned and swallowed.

“You like to be hurt?”

“Yes”, Yuzuru answered, immediately.

Javier released his breath on a sigh, in apparent distress.

“How much?”

“Not very much. No cuts. No bruises. But I like to be manhandled. And – roughed up a bit. It frees me a little, I suppose.”

“From what?” Javier asked immediately.

“....From my mind”, Yuzuru answered eventually, looking uncertain for the first time. “From the pressure.”

Javier mellowed down.

“Why didn’t you tell me all these things before, Yuzu?”

Yuzuru shrugged.

“It wasn’t on the table. I didn’t want this from you.”

“So you want this from -- other people?” Javier asked, voice rising, despite himself.

“I didn’t do this with anyone else, either. It’s just a fantasy, Javi. Don’t you have fantasies? Ones that you don’t act out in real life...”

Javier was nodding even before Yuzuru finished.

“Well, I want to do this one for you. We’ll do this, I mean – if you want to, of course. Only – you will have to tell me how. And possibly stop me if I act like an idiot. Or if you’re not comfortable.”

Yuzuru stood up from the chair and went over to Javier. He took the items from his hand, examining them carefully. He brushed his fingers over the ball gag with a wistful smile.

“I wish I could wear this. But I don’t think I can. Not for an extended period of time anyway. I would have trouble breathing, because of my asthma. But maybe for a little bit.”

“I should have thought of this”, Javier shook his head.

“Don’t be ridiculous”, Yuzuru said. He set the items aside and cupped Javier’s face instead. “Thank you. For wanting to do this for me. We will discuss the scene in detail of course. And if either of us wants to stop, we will settle on a safe word. I want you to like it as much as I do.”

 

On the day they settled for it to happen, even if they had discussed the scene in advance, as agreed, Javier was nervous. He took a long shower to unwind, and then spent the time while Yuzuru went to take a shower by studying the _items_ he bought and rehearsing the scene in his mind, like he was auditioning for a role.

Yuzuru came out naked, an enticing blush already spreading over his neck and chest, betraying his own excitement.

“Well, aren’t you going to take your clothes off?” he asked Javier.

Javier cleared his throat.

“Right.”

He divested himself of his clothing hurriedly, then gestured to Yuzuru.

“Can you – come here please?”

Yuzuru chuckled quietly.

“You can be a little more firm you know, _Javier_ ”, he teased.

“Come here”, Javier whispered. He still couldn’t bring himself to raise his voice.

Yuzuru understood that any more teasing from him would only make matters worse and Javier might end up putting a stop to it, so he decided to slip into his role immediately, in order to make it easy for Javier. He approached quietly, and stopped in front of Javier, his head bowed submissively.

“Turn around,” Javier said, his voice picking up a little.

Yuzuru did, and Javier pulled his arms behind him, attaching one leather cuff, and then the other, around the slender wrists. He fumbled with the cuffs for a while, not wanting them to be too loose, or too tight. When he finished, Yuzuru sighed, and allowed his arms to hang loosely behind him. The leather restraints and the chain connecting them were brushing against the swell of his naked ass, and the feeling was new and exciting. Then Javier attached the collar, and finally, his hands shaking slightly – the leash. He tugged a little, experimentally, and Yuzuru moaned, head falling back.

Still holding the leash, but not longer pulling, Javier guided Yuzuru towards the bedroom, pushing him so that he fell onto the unmade bed. Yuzuru groaned, and spread himself out onto his belly, rubbing himself against the sheets, ass pushing up.

Javier took a few seconds to admire the view – the black collars and cuffs presented a stunning sight set against Yuzuru’s white skin, and the hands restrained behind his back were brushing tantalizingly against his perky round ass.

Javier kneeled between Yuzuru’s legs on the bed, spreading them even wider apart and ran a hand from his neck down to his ass, tugging at the cuffs on his way further down. Yuzuru canted his hips up eagerly as Javier wasted no time in pressing a thumb against his exposed opening. He slapped the ass cheeks with relish, and rubbed them vigorously, as he massaged the pucker, without breaking in yet. Yuzuru whimpered and thrashed. Javier bent down to suck and bite enthusiastically at the fleshy mounds, remembering to tug at the leash in short but firm yanks. He alternated between sucking and reaching underneath Yuzuru to play with his cock and balls, until Yuzuru was crying out, already incoherent, a mix of ‘oh’ and ‘please’, and ‘Javi’, and ‘yes’. Javier pushed Yuzuru’ tied hands taut until the chain was digging enticingly into the globes of his ass, and licked deliberately along Yuzuru’s arched spine. Javier made sure the chain was still in place, both of Yuzuru’s hands framing his ass cheeks, as he started eating out Yuzuru in earnest. 

“Lift your ass up”, Javier ordered, getting further and further into the intended headspace, as he tugged on the leash for effect. “I’m gonna fuck you just like this. So that you’ll feel me.”

That wasn’t entirely true, since, as agreed, Yuzuru had opened himself up on his fingers in the bathroom, after taking the shower – but the effect of having those words said out loud was just as exciting for the both of them.

“Please, yes!” Yuzuru cried.

Javier tugged on the leash again.

“Lift!” he ordered, and when Yuzuru raised his hips eagerly, he let go of the leash completely, in favour of grabbing Yuzuru’s hips and thrusting inside. He angled his cock purposefully to aim for his prostate from the very first thrusts, and ignored everything else in favour of hammering that spot with clockwork precision.

“Javi- Javi- Javi!” fell desperately from Yuzuru’s lips.

Javier leaned over him, bracing himself on the bed, and grabbed the back of Yuzuru’s head, pushing it into the sheets, muffling his cries.

“Shut up and take it!” Javier growled, as he increased the pace, rolling his eyes a little at the ridiculous line – but Yuzuru seemed to love it, his tight heat contracting around Javier’s cock with a loud drawn-out moan.

Javier grabbed the chain holding Yuzuru’s hands captive behind his back, and lifted it, just to see Yuzuru’s back arch to accommodate it. He kept them raised for a while, then let them go abruptly, the chain slapping against Yuzuru’s back.

He grabbed hold of the leash again.

It was too bad that Javier couldn’t tell Yuzuru how beautiful he was, since it would break the scene, because Javier thought that he looked really beautiful in those moments.

Instead, Javier grabbed the chain roughly, pressing it down over Yuzuru’s back, keeping him pinned to the bed, as he drilled him. Yuzuru screamed, loud and unrestrained.

“Shhh”, Javier panted, slapping his ass for effect. “Be quiet, or I’ll gag you.”

“Do it!” Yuzuru challenged.

“No”, Javier replied, yanking on the leash. “Bite down on this.” He held the leash taut with both hands and made Yuzuru bite down on it, pulling a little for effect. “Now be good for me, I’m gonna fuck you lights out. I’m very close. I’m gonna come inside you.”

“Already?” Yuzuru teased, cheekily, and Javier slapped his ass again, as he slammed back inside him.

 

Javier was being so  _accommodating._

Even after they had discussed the scene in detail, he was still holding back. Afraid of what he might do to Yuzuru if he let go entirely?

It didn’t even matter to Yuzuru, that the scene did not play out to the letter. He was more aroused than he’d ever been, and it was all because of this one man who was willing to do so much for him, and expect so little in return. It was unfair, perhaps – but Yuzuru didn’t see it as such. He was grateful to Javier, but expected no less than his unconditional love. And the love spell was working – and it would work still – for a while.


	5. Chapter 5

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Um so, I apologize for the wait, and if you're still following the story, I hope you like this chapter. I honestly don't know if it's any good. It's difficult for me to write these days, both for this fandom, and in general, but I'm happy I managed to get this chapter written. Also I care about this story a lot and I don't want to leave it unfinished. I will do my best to update more regularly from now on.

 

 

Yuzuru lost the world title to Javier later that season, and that’s when he realized the love spell worked both ways – Javier was not the only one tied down by their intricate, almost dependant relationship; Yuzuru too was a slave to it. The worst of it was not the loss itself, but Yuzuru’s own reaction to it: tears of frustration mingled with tears of pride that the man he loved was finally getting the reward for his hard work. It was a glitch in the system. But to feel Javier’s soft eyes and hands on him, to feel Javier’s happiness and love that never failed to include Yuzuru, even at the height of his success, the gentle care that was now almost apologetic (“Are you alright? I know this hurts”) – that was a new type of pain mingled with a new kind of bliss.

Yuzuru was reeling with complicated emotions, but on the whole, he felt strangely at peace. It was like when he was little and he was recovering from a bad asthma attack, and his mother would cover him in blankets and bring him hot cocoa and tend to his every need, with soft words and gentle touches. And Yuzuru would feel pampered and loved, even as the after-effects of his attack still lingered. He could indulge and maybe even feel a little sorry for himself, while enjoying the care that came with it.

Javier made gentle love with him that night, his touches still feathery and apologetic, even as his thrusts became more urgent. ‘I love you’, he whispered as he finished, and kissed Yuzuru’s forehead, lips burning yet soothing, and Yuzuru’s breath caught in his throat, because it was too much, everything was too much.

 

The season was now over, but the fire still burned brightly because the beast inside Yuzuru, its hunger awakened, had not been fully satisfied. The beast had once been fed the purest gold and now nothing but gold could appease it.

With singleminded focus, Yuzuru started thinking ahead. This season, he would be unbeaten. He was going to make sure of it, and leave no variable to chance. He bid the beast within to lurk and wait – the time for fighting would come, now was the time to plan, and think.

His long program – Seimei - one that he felt strongly about, signified strength, but only if he could master it completely. However, Yuzuru felt the very essence of the character he was supposed to embody, stubbornly evaded him: yet again, he found himself in search of guidance.

The only man who could provide it this time was the same man who had portrayed this character before, and brought it to life in such a vivid manner as to inspire in Yuzuru the desire to imitate it – Nomura Mansai. A meeting was set, and Yuzuru was uncharacteristically nervous – he resolved to talk little and listen carefully, trying to absorb as much as possible during their brief encounter; instinctively knowing that he shouldn’t make the mistake of trying to seduce the older man, and also that he would be getting valuable advice, if he knew how to listen.

They started discussing in general terms about performance, in theatre, as well as on the ice, about similar tricks to sway audiences and critics.

“Stance is very important”, Nomura began neutrally. “I’m sure as a figure skater you recognize this. _Koshi o ireru”,_ he instructed, and Yuzuru nodded, instinctively correcting his posture. “We draw strength from the elements.”

The calm, almost flegmatic demeanour of the kyogen actor did little to settle Yuzuru’s nerves – he found himself fidgeting, and, throwing his earlier plan to the wind, he started talking in a rush about his program and the frustration he felt at not being able to express it properly, and the costume – should he change it – and the judges, and he’s so weak and-

The thin lips of Nomura-san curled in an amused smile which seemed to Yuzuru slightly patronizing. He reached out and placed a soft yet firm hand over Yuzuru’s restless fingers.

“Sometimes you have to be still. Be still and strong, and fight with your mind. It is what Seimei does.”

Yuzuru sighed in frustration.

“I do fight with my mind. I know because of my stamina and asthma I can’t train as much as others, so I use the time in which I don’t train to visualize the jumps and other elements. So when I do step on the ice, my body knows what it has to do.”

“This is smart. And your frustration is understandable. You are so young and as such... inclined for quick gratification. I am old, and more restrained. Forgive me if I smile or laugh, you must not think I mock you; my laughter is one of delight, and not condescending. It is refreshing to talk to someone like you. I feel like we are very different people, coming from different places artistically, but on some level, we understand each other.”

Yuzuru nodded: he felt the same. He understood Nomura-san, even though he recognized himself as fundamentally different. But the chameleon in him was eager to acquire new colours, and Nomura spoke of new, exciting nuances. Yuzuru found himself caught up in their conversation, only occasionally remembering that he was supposed to pay focused attention, and calculate how to make use of everything that Nomura-san told him.

“You’re fire and ice, and the character you want to portray here is more wind and rain - think about it – wind and rain – you can feel them, can’t you? perhaps not as strongly as ice and fire, yet they can shape and shake our world the very same, but with perceived effects more subtle and insidious – they can rage, but they can also creep in quietly, they swoosh and sweep while the other two crash and tear.”

Yuzuru reflected on this, and nodded again.

“Music is important but there is also silence. Silence must also be filled. Think about it. Landing a jump on a beat is cool, but landing a jump in the precious moment between notes, can you picture it? The impact on people’s hearts? It’s like saying: I control everything that happened before and everything that happens after – I make it happen, and this – what you’re seeing – is my _magic_.”

“I must fill the silence with my magic”, Yuzuru repeated, wonderingly. It was a strange, yet beautiful concept. “But-“, he frowned, his earlier frustration returning, “how do I find that magic inside me? How do I express it? What if I-“

Nomura raised a hand to politely interrupt him.

“What is the thing that you fear the most?” he asked.

“Failure”, Yuzuru answered immediately.

Nomura waved his raised hand in dismissal.

“Less abstract, please.”

Yuzuru pondered. He remembered the unexpected crash, out of nowhere, just as he was beginning to accustom himself to feeling invincible.

“Legs giving way under me”, he answered, haltingly. “Not being able to breathe.”

“Death?” Nomura questioned, shrewdly.

“We all fear death”, Yuzuru answered evasively, “we have no choice. But dying with honour is not such a bad fate.”

“Some might say death is the most insurmountable of all obstacles.”

“Not if you’ve achieved everything you’ve set out to do, and you die with honour,” Yuzuru insisted, stubbornly. “I feel that death is preferable to failure.”

Nomura nodded.

“I understand. Seimei, though –“ he paused, briefly, and waited for Yuzuru to guess what he was getting at.

“Seimei means life”, Yuzuru finally answered, as understanding dawned on him.

“Exactly”, Nomura beamed. “You need to remember this as you skate your program – it is an ode to life itself, with Abe no Seimei as the main character. If you only remember this, as you are a very clever and sensitive boy, you will know how to perform it. The magic of it, if you want to call it that, lies in the triumph of life over death, the quiet persistent strength of life itself, refusing to give up. Not as glamorous as a sword fight, but surely no less inspiring?”

The smile of Nomura-san was now warm and kind, Yuzuru noticed, or has it always been like this? He nodded, a little lost.

“Sometimes”, Nomura-san said knowingly, “the simple act of drawing a breath is an act of courage.”

 

Yuzuru was quiet on his way home, his mind and heart full. He went up to his room, and recorded himself breathing in deeply, as if before a dive, filling his lungs with wholesome air – the sudden rush of oxygen to his brain making him feel a little dizzy and giddy – _Alive._

He would put that sound in the beginning of his Seimei program – as a reminder of everything that he should express.

 

And the pages of the history book that Yuzuru was bent on writing, began to turn, and every page held something new – a world record broken, another jump conquered, another first, another achievement. The story of Yuzuru Hanyu was acquiring hues of legend, not unlike the character he was portraying on the ice.

Yuzuru began to believe again in his invincibility.

How joyful it is, to breathe life into a program when you’re confident and adored, when even your enemies have no choice but to bow down to your skills, when your senses are tingling with the joy of fighting for what you feel is yours, and challenges are reasons for heady excitement, making victory taste even sweeter.

 

“There is no one at the moment – _no one_ , who can beat a clean Yuzuru Hanyu”, Johnny Weir declaimed, on a definitive note, from his commentator box. “Perhaps a clean Javier Fernandez”, he added as an afterthought, “but even that is highly debatable.”

 

“Funny how he knows my potential better than I do”, Javier offered airily upon hearing Johnny’s comment, with a pretend careless smile, but Yuzuru looked closely and noticed the hardness in his eyes and the tight pull of his lips as he tried to hold on to that smile.

“Johnny is silly, we know this, right? Javi, you’re very very good”, Yuzuru offered. _I’m better, though_ , he continued, in thought.

“Thank you, that’s nice of you to say”, Javier replied, a little stiffly. “I don’t need reassurances though. I know myself, when I’m good and when I’m not, and what I need to work on. I can work to be better than you. I’ve beaten you before, and I can beat you again.”

It sounded vaguely threatening, but Yuzuru’s eyes lit up at the challenge.

“That is the very same thing I want. The two of us, Javi - we’re the only ones who really know what this is like”, Yuzuru imparted on a low, meaningful tone, sounding like he was letting Javier in on a special secret between them.

Javier gave a slight smile.

“That’s true but also....”

He shook his head, at a loss on how to give voice to the muddle of feelings inside his heart.

“It also makes me feel sometimes like we’re enemies.”

Yuzuru threw his head back and laughed.

“But Javi, we _are_ enemies!” he said, on a childishly incredulous tone. “Didn’t you _know_ that already?” He poked at Javier’s chest with a finger and leaned in to playfully bite at his jaw. “That’s half the fun of it!”

“Heh”, Javier reacted, disentangling him gently. “Yuzu, I’m not like you, I don’t do well with mind games. Sometimes I wish...”

“....What?”

“That we could be quietly happy together, without any competitions and stress and....”

Yuzuru pondered.

“But then I wouldn’t be happy”, he answered honestly. “I can’t imagine myself not competing.”

Javier gave him a long look.

“But at some point, surely, you’d want to retire. Or you’d _have_ to.”

“I’d rather not think about that now”, Yuzuru replied, annoyed.

“Well, retirement is something I’m actually looking forward to”, Javier shrugged.

Yuzuru gave him a quick look that mingled pity with disbelief, and smiled. Yes, he’d rather not think about that.

 

~

“How do you do the quad lutz?”

“I imagine I can fly!”

“Even into the boards?”

“Boards are.....in the way.”

The quiet, sheepish laughter that followed had Yuzuru smiling fondly and sliding closer to the younger Chinese man who blushed at their proximity, but did not retreat.

“Teach me!” Yuzuru challenged.

“You already can fly”, Boyang answered.

Yuzuru’s smile widened, but Boyang went on, seriously:

“Maybe the lutz is not for you. There is only one beast for each of us, you know.”

“I want to tame all beasts”, Yuzuru replied, firmly. “It is the only way for me.”

Boyang nodded, thoughtfully.

“I had a feeling you were like this. I feel strongly....”, he began, but then trailed off, and gave another sheepish chuckle.

Yuzuru studied Boyang’s face, smooth and serene despite his awkwardness. There was something fragile about the younger man – despite having tamed the big beast, Yuzuru had a feeling that Boyang had a harder time taming other demons. Like the demons of inadequacy. The ones Yuzuru usually exiled in the deepest corners of his mind, to assail him only at night, when he tried to clear his mind of everything and sleep. Boyang looked like he might not have figured out yet how to keep demons at bay, and they might assail him at the most inopportune moments. A desire to protect, never before experienced, rose up in Yuzuru.

“You don’t have to give it to me – the quad lutz I mean”, he said, coyly. “I will steal it, you know. That’s what I’m best at.”

“Like stealing people’s hearts?” Boyang teased back, and Yuzuru broke into peals of laughter.

The boy was decidedly cute and his crush on Yuzuru was endearing.

“I want you to take care of yourself, please promise me, Bo. It is very important to me.”

He kissed Boyang slowly on the lips in emphasis of his words, a delicate touch that wasn’t meant to inflame, but to revive, a healing benediction.

“You can fly too”, Yuzuru told him, as he pulled back. “Impress me.”

Boyang nodded, intensity replacing his previous sheepish demeanour, even as he answered formally, with a little bow:

“I will challenge myself.”

And he saw an answering flicker in Yuzuru’s eyes.

It was dangerous and exciting, and sometimes Yuzuru felt as if Javier wasn’t enough to challenge him: he perversely needed more, even as he feared the prospect of failure.

Plushenko had warned him never to go to sleep on his laurels. Young wolves would always be nipping at his heels.

Yuzuru was amused and endeared by Boyang, but Plushenko’s ominous words sounded in his mind.

‘If you start a revolution, be careful. You might end up among the ones with their heads cut off’

‘How cryptic’, Yuzuru had thought at the time, but now he could see the truth in those words.

They were gaining on him, those aroused and galvanized by his challenge

They will reach him and pull him to the ground, and stomp on him-

no-

He shivered - the trauma still too near, and touched his ankle unconsciously.

The ankle that had failed him at a key moment and robbed him of yet another world championship.

 

~

It was time to use the weapon that nobody else had, the quad loop, and without even telling his coach about it yet, Yuzuru started working to stabilize its landing, so he could safely include it in his programs.

Javier was watching him, as always, with a mixture of curiosity and baffled unease.

“What are you doing?” he finally asked, circling close.

“What does it look like?” Yuzuru snapped. “Didn’t Brian tell you? Just like he didn't tell me you were adding a second quad sal to your program.”

“You want to up your tech content?” Javier asked, wide-eyed, even as he ignored the second part of Yuzuru's tirade. “But you've already got the highest one there is...”

“....Scared you won't get to catch me?” Yuzuru asked, coming to a halt in front of Javier with a cheeky grin.

Javier scoffed.

“You can add the loop, but it doesn't mean it will always work for you.”

“I won't add it until I’m satisfied that it works 90 percent of the time”, Yuzuru countered.

“I just think you're tempting fate.”

“No, you're just scared I'll beat you.”

“Well, obviously I don't want you to beat me, but I have my own weapons...”

“Yeah, like that second quad sal”, Yuzuru quipped. “Adding that late in the season, when I least expected it. Just to strike fear in me, when I was already weak and injured.”

“It worked, didn’t it?” Javier answered, his annoyance getting the better of him. “Turns out you’re not the only one who can play mind games. You couldn’t have beat me at worlds anyway, Yuzu. You wanna know why? Because you hit your peak too early in the season, Brian told you that over and over again, but you never listen. As for me, I pace myself so that I'm ready for it when it matters the most.”

“I don't know the meaning of the words 'pace myself'. What does it mean? Does it mean not doing your best, always?”

Javier rolled his eyes.

“Very funny.”

“I'm serious.”

“It’s a marathon, not a sprint.”

“Don't keep me talking, I need to practice.”

“You can't stop me from watching you, though. I'll wait for you to master the loop, then I'll steal it from you, like you stole my sal.”

“You can steal it, if you can”, Yuzuru shrugged. “But I will make sure I'm the first person who lands it in competition. This jump is mine. So even if you manage it too, you will have to think of me everytime you jump it.”

Javier snickered and moved off.

“Like I don’t always think of you...” he mumbled, sounding defeated rather than happy about it.

That was how most of their interactions went these days, a mixture of playfulness and bitterness, but they didn't see anything wrong in that.

No matter which of them got the gold, and what hurtful words they happened to sprout at one another, they ended up fucking just as enthusiastically. Yuzuru drifted towards Javier and Javier towards Yuzuru, as if guided by gravity, just as their eyes sought and found each other in a crowd, both reassured and excited by the other's familiar presence.

 

~

I can jump ‘Ikkeru ikkeru’ - Yuzuru repeated to himself as he stepped onto the brittle ice in Marseille, just as he did two years ago, after his crash.

It worked back then, didn't it? Yuzuru was just desperate enough to repeat everything that once worked, not only small touches to his Pooh and handshakes with Brian, but also Javier's throbbing flesh in his mouth as he sucked it enthusiastically, like it was another task he must excel at, his mind blissfully blank of everything else.

The two of them had come some way from their first experience with bondage and dominance, and now Javier understood at least partly Yuzuru's need for relinquishing control, less sexual than psychological. Javier also gradually learned how to dominate and take pleasure and confidence from it. It was pleasing to subdue his eternal rival and wreck him until his eyes glazed over and the wheels in his mind ceased turning for a while.

A rushed but satisfying blowjob happened before the long program at the first Grand Prix in Barcelona, both of them wound up and anxious, needing to let off some steam before the competition; and it happened against last year. Yuzuru had won both times, and now in France it would happen again (for the last time, though neither of them knew it at the time.) And Yuzuru would win again.

This time Yuzuru had his hands tied up behind his back so he could focus on nothing else except sucking. Javier's wounded groans above him were a distant but heady music to Yuzuru’s ears, along with his own slurping noises and sharp intakes of breath. Javier finally let go completely and started fucking hard into Yuzuru’s mouth, hands tightening around his face to keep him at the perfect angle, cock hitting the back of Yuzuru’s throat in an urgent but steady rhythm. Yuzuru went boneless and pliant, eyes half-closed in blind contentment. He felt the bitter seed fill his mouth all too soon, Javier never lasted long in these conditions, and he swallowed convulsively, giving the cock in his mouth one more tug. Javier gasped and shivered, pulling out, only to smear the last spurt of semen over Yuzuru’s face, rubbing it into his skin possessively, one last greedy kiss on Yuzuru’s abused lips before he reached behind him to untie his hands. Yuzuru smiled at him, indulgent and lazy, and Javier returned the smile, still breathing hard, similarly blissed-out. If there was something else in his eyes behind that smile, Yuzuru did not see it.

 

He didn’t know what made him linger to watch Javier from the sidelines that day. He had never thought of doing it before. He knew Javier was feeling threatened and unsettled, pressured by the new kids rising from the ranks to challenge the dominance he had previously only shared with Yuzuru. It was now, more than ever, the two of them against the rest of the world. And Yuzuru felt supportive, but at the same time he really wanted – no, he really _needed_ that win for himself. So he stayed and watched, and cheered, with mixed feelings. Javier struggled, his program a beautiful but shaky mess, missing the podium entirely. Yuzuru had the gold – for the third year in a row, writing another page of history in his name.

Javier persistently avoided Yuzuru for the rest of that day, and that frustrated Yuzuru to no end. He went to knock on his hotel room, and pushed straight past Javier as soon as the latter opened the door, not allowing a quick dismissal.

“Javi, what is the matter?”

“I’m not feeling well,” came the answer, evasive and morose.

“Yes, I can see that. I’m sorry that you did so bad. I was cheering for you.”

Javier clicked his tongue, annoyed.

“Yeah, I wish I could say thank you for that, but just - don’t. Please don’t do that again, okay? Just – just – _stop._ You’re playing up this whole ‘friends and rivals’ thing too much, it’s getting ridiculous.”

“But we’re friends, aren’t we? In fact we’re more than friends, Javi....”, Yuzuru reminded him with a sigh. “And we’re also rivals. What’s the problem?”

“The problem is... I don’t know what the problem is, I just know there is one, and you.... yeah in fact the problem _is_ _you_ – you’re eating away at me, little by little, and I’m the fool who lets you do it.”

Yuzuru regarded him, arms crossed, with a small smile. Somehow he could never take Javier seriously whenever he got so fantastically angry, his wild, comical gestures, his Spanish accent coming on particularly strong. It was endearing, like something from a movie.

“Javi, if it bothers you so much then I will no longer cheer for you,” Yuzuru shrugged.

“It’s not just that, it’s _everything”,_ Javier thundered, voice rising further. _“_ I’m living in your shadow, playing a supporting role. _Yuzuru Hanyu’s training partner,_ that’s who I am – to the media, to everyone.”

“Well, it’s a good thing they don’t know that we’re also fucking”, Yuzuru tried to joke, but Javier wasn’t having it.

“It’s alright for you to laugh, but how do you think that makes _me_ feel?”

Yuzuru paused.

“Look, Javi, I’m sorry”, he said, as genuinely humble as he could force himself to sound, and moved forward with the genuine intent to comfort Javier, his heart torn with something between love and pity.

But Javier’s eyes were hard.

“Get away from me. You don't want to be around me tonight, trust me. Just let me be.”

“But Javi – I said I was sorry, didn’t I? I just want to make you feel better-”

“No amount of cocksucking can help me tonight”, Javier interrupted, putting sting in his words with a bitter relish, and Yuzuru flinched.

“That's not what I meant...”

“Just go away. Please.”

Yuzuru lowered his eyes and went away, but he thought about Javier that night more than he ever did before.

The next day, at gala practice, Javier showed up late, dressed in a hoodie and looking soft and sad. Wordlessly, Yuzuru moved in and enveloped him in a big hug, which Javier returned. The night spent apart had done them both some good - they were gentle and tentative with each other, uncharacteristically wary of hurting one another with unkind words.

Later that day, Yuzuru overheard by chance someone talking about Javier in deprecating terms ‘He won’t last long, he's getting on in age, he’s not what he used to be, and the new generation is just around the corner.’ Yuzuru had to stop and blink, taking deep breaths, momentarily paralyzed by the wave of rage that crept up on him unawares.

“That is not true”, he said, cuttingly, when he recovered some of his composure. “Javi's performance is always beautiful and quad sal is perfect.”

“...when he lands it”, came the snickering, under-the breath reply, followed by someone else’s amused chuckle.

Yuzuru rose abruptly and left the room, shocked by the intensity of his own anger and fearing what he might do.

 

~

Under the unforgiving cold lights of the crowded room, Yuzuru was watching Javier carefully, as he absently chewed on his nails and checked his phone, still overdressed even though the weather didn’t warrant it. Was he coming down with something? What was wrong?

They were at the airport waiting for the plane to take them back to Canada, Brian had gone ahead to deal with the paperwork and Javier was just sitting there quietly - way too quiet and self-absorbed, paying no attention to Yuzuru or to anything else around him. Something wasn't right. Javier wasn't alright.

“Please tell me what is wrong”, Yuzuru burst out, gripped by a strange feeling of apprehension. “Please,” he insisted, as Javier looked up from his phone only to roll his eyes, “just tell me!”

“Yuzu,” Javier sighed. “Let it go. For once, it's not about you. It's about me.”

“Yes, but what? Javiii!” Yuzuru pleaded, close to tears, reaching out to grab and shake Javier’s limp hand, like a child afraid to be left alone in the dark.

Javier returned his attention to his phone.

“I don't think I can do this for much longer”, he eventually answered, with deceptive calm. “That’s all.” He was about to add something else, but then closed his mouth, and sank again into silence.

Yuzuru stared at him in wide-eyed disbelief, and shook his head in pointed denial. No. Javier was playing with him. This was another trick, another mind game, meant for Yuzuru to lower his guard and then... Javier would surprise him and beat him once more. Maybe Javi would even add the quad loop to his program, Yuzuru had already seen Javier land it in practice. It made sense.

It did make sense, except something told Yuzuru that it wasn't the case. Javier's eyes were way too sad, and he sounded entirely honest. So Yuzuru inched closer into Javier’s lap, ignoring the latter’s frustrated grunts as Javier reluctantly shifted to accommodate him, and the lingering amused looks of the people around them – Yuzuru wrapped himself around Javier and cried like he was the one in need of comfort.

And yet again Yuzuru wondered - why must he always glimpse, on the very wings of a much fought-for victory, the shadow of an even bigger darkness approaching?


	6. Chapter 6

There remained something unreachable about the Hope and Legacy program, it teased Yuzuru with the possibility of perfection but always slipped out of his grasp whenever he tried to capture it. It was all the more frustrating because Yuzuru could glimpse _it_ as if hovering just outside his realm of vision, but the more he tried to actively pursue it, the more _it_ evaded him.

Yuzuru went to Worlds that year nursing his frustrations at letting the title slip from him twice, and secretly worried about Javier in more ways than one. After Javier’s confession at the airport, Yuzuru was clingier than ever, and Javier indulged him, but appeared distracted. Yuzuru couldn’t bear to have Javier thinking about other people, other things, a life outside of skating, outside of _him_. He became volatile and resentful, which in turn pushed Javier even further away. Still, their relationship continued as before, their physical desire for each other as potent as ever, even stronger now they were both aware it had an expiration date. Javier also struggled with his own limits, and one day Yuzuru overheard Javier tell Brian the very same words he had told him, on the same tired, defeated tone:

“I don't think I can do this for much longer.”

Yuzuru stopped short, having only just then realized the magnitude of Javier’s meaning – he did not only mean his relationship with Yuzuru, the constant push and pull of their rivalry and attraction to each other, with Javier always giving and Yuzuru always taking – it was his entire way of life that Javier wanted to change. Did Javier mean he intended to retire, give up skating altogether?

“I’ll kill him”, was Yuzuru’s first thought. “He can’t do this to _me_.”

Distracted by thoughts of Javier, neither of his programs that year had reached their true potential, and Worlds was drawing near. He was beginning to have trouble sleeping again, only getting a good night’s rest when Javier was there with him to hold him throughout the night.

In the short program, Yuzuru was supposed to play a campy character, smooth and playfully seductive, but he felt like a raw mess inside. It wasn’t his style, he wanted something dramatic and powerful, so he could build up emotional momentum for the jumps. He felt awkward but since people seemed to love this new side of him, he did his best to indulge them and drilled the moves with his usual single-minded focus.

On the day of the short program, he almost collided with Javier during practice. The people screamed and Javier reacted quickly, grabbing Yuzuru and pulling him upright before he could fall. The unexpected contact sent an electrical current through them; they paused, staring, breathing hard.

“Okay?” they asked each other with their eyes, and both nodded.

Yuzuru felt a familiar pull that was physical desire or maybe all-consuming love - whatever it was, it made his knees go weak. He only knew he needed to touch Javier, not in a crowded stadium, but in a private place where they could be alone and intimate, and he needed it _right at that moment_ , and everything be damned; craving the undivided attention and care that Javier had always provided and Yuzuru had always taken for granted. The danger of losing Javier and maybe a part of himself completely loomed in his mind more urgently than ever.

‘ _Mind shall be wiser, heart bolder, courage the greatest, as my strength lessens’,_ Yuzuru mouthed to himself the familiar mantra in Japanese, but he couldn’t feel the power of the magic words strengthen him, as they usually did. “ _Ikkeru, ikkeru”,_ he spurred himself on, nonetheless.

Yuzuru managed to pull himself together enough to finish practice, but later he crashed during the competition; his failure so striking as to be the cause of hushed whispers, wondering about an injury or about personal problems. Even Brian asked him if he was okay, while Yuzuru could only nod, ashamed and disgusted with himself.

“Is everything okay between you and Javi?” Brian asked him in a low tone as they were waiting for the protocols.

Yuzuru turned to look at him with a sugary smile:

“And why wouldn’t it be?”

“Ah....I was just wondering if maybe.... I don’t know, you didn’t really seem yourself today....”

Yuzuru opened a carton of juice and wrapped his lips around it suggestively. He sucked at the contents, keeping his eyes fixed on Brian.

“We never fuck during competitions”, Yuzuru casually informed him, and Brian winced.

“I didn’t mean _that_ ”, he argued, with a grimace. “I just want you to know that if there’s a problem, you can count on me, and I won’t think any less of you if....”

Yuzuru gave the carton of juice a last tiny lick, before he put the cap back on and smirked at Brian.

Brian smiled back uncertainly.

“Don’t you worry”, Yuzuru said, with a confidence he did not feel. “I am fine. I’ll catch up in the free.”

As if seemingly liberated by Yuzuru’s failure, Javier soared.

Yuzuru bristled with conflicting emotions – silent jealousy and possessive desire, as he watched him – from behind the curtain this time, because he didn’t want to risk a repeat of the time at GPF when Javier got mad that Yuzuru stayed to watch him from the sidelines. His fingers unconsciously crumpled the material he was holding on to.

What was wrong with him? This wasn’t supposed to happen. He was better than this. How could he allow emotions, feelings, to get the better of him in this way? Stupid, he was stupid. Him, with all his rituals, and his repeated mantras, and his superstitions and calculations.... never realizing that by playing with Javier he had unwittingly made him as well a crucial denominator in the equation of Yuzuru’s success. A denominator with a will of his own, who now wanted to break free and ruin the delicate balance of the entire system. It wasn’t only Javier who has been trapped, Yuzuru has also trapped himself alongside him, both wrapped up tightly as if in a cocoon of muddled feelings and desire, and the separation would be as harsh as ripping off a band-aid from a still raw wound.

Yuzuru suddenly felt himself being watched and he turned around abruptly, only to see Stephane standing there. Yuzuru had forgotten he was at this competition, too, shepherding his new favourite student, Deniss. For a few seconds, Yuzuru was at a loss for words, not knowing what to say or how to explain the fact that he was furtively watching his team mate and rival from behind a curtain, as if resentful or ashamed. He realized he was clutching the curtain so hard that his knuckles had turned white. Stephane approached him casually, and put a hand on his shoulder when he was within touching distance.

“I think you can come back in the free”, Stephane said, on his usual tone, levelled and friendly, seemingly ignoring Yuzuru’s anxiety, only to smile at him warmly.

When Yuzuru didn’t reply, he went on:

“You may think that it’s hopeless now, but don’t worry. You may end up surprising yourself.” And in a lower tone he added: “I’m here for you if you need me, Yuzu.”

Stephane moved in for a quick embrace, squeezing Yuzuru’s waist tightly, with underlying intent, lips brushing Yuzuru’s hair, as he whispered in his ear: “You’re still beautiful like a waking dream”, before pulling back and retreating backstage.

Yuzuru stared after him for a few long moments, seriously considering the proposition.

“Don’t listen to him! He can’t help you!” came a sudden, hushed voice, and Yuzuru turned abruptly.

The man who had spoken was middle-aged, balding, wearing a winter coat and a Russian fur hat and fiddling his fingers nervously. The badge around his neck labelled him as a coach, or choreographer, but Yuzuru couldn’t read his name. He had long delicate fingers – the fingers of an aristocrat or a pianist, which was at odds with his otherwise coarse appearance.

“I’m sorry, do I know you?” Yuzuru asked, confused.

“No, I don’t think so. But I know you, of course. Everyone does, don’t they?”

“Who are you? And what did you mean, Stephane can’t help me?”

The older man made a theatrical, dismissive gesture:

“He can’t teach jumps. Doesn’t know much about them. I saw you today, you struggled with jumps.”

“Even if I did”, Yuzuru answered, “what makes you think that you can help me?”

“Ah, hahaha”, the man laughed, heartily, and his round face turned red and benevolent like a Santa. “Because I know about jumps. The technical tricks – no one knows better than I do. Listen – you’re gonna need all the help you can get: for the _Olympics,_ _next year.”_

The last words were spoken in a hushed, insistent tone, as if imparting a secret.

Yuzuru shook his head, bewildered, trying to decide which part of that strange speech he should address first:

“....Okay first of all, I have no intention of leaving Brian Orser. Second-“

“Who says you have to leave him?” the man interrupted, shrewdly. “You see, I already work at the Cricket Club.”

“Wha- what?” Yuzuru stammered. “But- I’ve never seen you around.”

The man laughed again, the same booming, jovial laughter.

“That’s because you never see anything around you, eh? Not when you skate. You’re in your own world, aren’t you? Except maybe _Javi._ Yeah, you see Javi, don’t you? But I’m not a Javi, so of course you don’t see me- haha!”

“...Okay, but if you’re so good, then why hasn’t Brian recommended you to work with me?”

“Maybe Brian wants you a little for himself, eh? Eh? Or maybe he thought you didn’t need my help. But from what I’ve seen, it seems like you do. And it’s the Olympics – you’re gonna need all the help you can get”, he added meaningfully.

Yuzuru shook his head again, still distrustful.

“Thank you for your offer, but I think I have some mental issues that I need to overcome. There is nothing wrong with me physically right now. And my technique is fine.”

“Everything is technical. A clever boy like you should know – real art can only be founded on technical perfection. Now you can go to Steph so he can fill your head with nonsense. Or you can come to me and I’ll show you, the hard but reliable way, how to be the best. You’ll have to work hard of course, I can’t stand lazy people. But I already know you’re a hard worker and a real talent, otherwise I wouldn’t have bothered to offer my services. I promise you that if you do, you’ll have my undivided attention.”

Yuzuru stared at him.

“There is only a day until tomorrow... less than a day. What can you teach me in a day that will help me here? And you still haven’t told me your name.”

The man waved a hand again, dismissively.

“I’m not talking about this competition. You’re perfectly able to crush your opponents here if you only pull yourself together. I’m talking about the real prize, like I said before – the Olympics. And my name is Ghislain. Ghislain Briand, at your service, my dear boy.”

Yuzuru sized him up, calculating.

“I will think about it. But why do you want to help me? Is it because you want to share in the spotlight, if I succeed?”

Ghislain smiled, a little more restrained this time.

“It is true, no offer to help is entirely selfless...but now is not the time to talk about repayment. First you have to decide if you want to work with me. If you do, you only have to look around and find me.”

He touched his fingers to his hat in a comical farewell gesture, and walked away, leaving Yuzuru to stare after him, nonplussed at the whole encounter.

 

~

As soon as Yuzuru was finished with press duties, his mother was all over him like a fussy hen ushering her wayward chick to safer quarters.

“I have scheduled a massage session for you in an hour”, she told him. “You need to relax and try to have a nice long sleep tonight. And then, tomorrow, you must do your best. Whatever happens, I’m proud of you, Yuzu.”

“Why does everyone act as if I’m on my last leg?” Yuzuru interjected, annoyed. “I messed up, it’s true, but it’s not the end of the world.”

“Of course not, baby”, his mother answered solicitously.

“I’m not finished! I just had a bad skate, for once in my life!”

“Yes”, she nodded. “It’s just that....you never really do, that’s all”, she was forced to admit, smiling nervously.

“I... I’m only human!” Yuzuru said, suddenly feeling tired. “I – I want –“

“Yes?” his mother asked eagerly. “Just tell me what you want, Yuzu, and I’ll try to get it for you.”

“I want Javi”, Yuzuru deflated, bowing his head in chagrin.

“Ah. Well, that shouldn’t be too hard then”, his mother reacted with good-humour. “But I still need you to go to the massage first.”

“It is hard, mom”, Yuzuru whined. “He wants to leave me.”

“What?” Yumi reacted, aghast. “Leave _you_? Impossible.”

Yuzuru laughed a little hysterically, tears in his eyes.

“Is that what’s bothering you, baby?” Yumi asked, sympathetically. “Because, take it from me, this man is gone for you, he’s completely head over heels, it’s funny to see. He won’t leave you, no way.”

“Maybe not yet”, Yuzuru said, calming down a little. “But it’s coming, soon. He’s working up towards it. We both know it – our time together has an expiration date.”

Yumi sighed.

“Everything has an expiration date, Yuzu. Even your life as a skater. Everything in the world is fragile and beautiful.”

“So we shouldn’t think about it, live only in the present?”

Yumi shrugged.

“I think we should all do our best, always”, she said. “So go to your massage, then to Javier, sleep well and do your best tomorrow.”

She kissed him on the forehead, soft and loving, like a benediction.

 

~

Yuzuru trudged towards Javier’s hotel room, secretly worried that he was going to be sent away, and he would have to use all the weapons at his disposal to persuade Javier to be with him tonight. It was a feeling of uncertainty that Yuzuru was entirely unaccustomed to, and it made him tremble slightly with fear and anticipation.

He knocked, and Javier opened the door with a serious, distant expression, only to soften immediately at the sight of Yuzuru.

“Yusu”, Javier sighed with something like relief, and reached a hand to pull Yuzuru inside the room. “I’ve been looking for you, after you finished with the press, but I couldn’t find you. Are you ok?”

The contrast between his expectations, worry and anxiety for the past few months, and the way Javier was looking at him and speaking to him now, like in the good old days, proved too much for Yuzuru. His eyes filled with tears as he only smiled and nodded, as he struggled not to make a complete fool of himself by starting to cry.

“Oh, baby, come here”, Javier crooned, as he brushed at the gathering tears in Yuzuru’s eyes, with the tips of his fingers. “You’ve come to stay, right?” and at Yuzuru’s nod of approval, he took his hand and led him towards the bed.

They both took off their clothes and slid under the covers. At first, it seemed like their closeness was enough to satisfy them, and they would fall asleep like this, but their bodies couldn’t help but react to the other’s naked proximity.

Javier pressed heated kisses to Yuzuru’s shoulders, groaning as he felt Yuzuru kneading his hardening cock. He disentangled himself briefly, only to return with the bottle of lube and slipped back behind Yuzuru, pressing close.

“Don’t worry, I won’t fuck you”, he said. Rubbing some lube on his cock, Javier pushed it between Yuzuru’s thighs. “Ah, this feels good”, he groaned. He reached around Yuzuru and placed his lube-stained palm on Yuzuru’s cock, rubbing him in rhythm with his thrusts. “Is this okay?” he asked, breathlessly.

Yuzuru made an inarticulate noise of assent, pushing back against him. The head of Javier’s cock was brushing tantalizingly against his pucker, on the verge of breaching in, but then retreating, which drove Yuzuru crazy with want.

“It’s not enough”, he finally complained, frustration lacing his voice.

Javier started rubbing him faster.

“No”, Yuzuru said, placing a hand over Javier’s, to make him stop, and turned on his back on the bed. “I want you inside me. And I want to see you.”

Javier stilled.

“But we agreed we wouldn’t do this during competitions”, he reminded Yuzuru.

“I _need_ it”, Yuzuru insisted. “Please, Javi.”

Javier sighed.

“I don’t know, Yuzu, I don’t want to hurt you and you have to skate tomorrow, it’s an important skate, and-“

Yuzuru placed a palm over Javier’s mouth, stopping his murmuring.

“I want you. Make love to me”, he said, on a tone which admitted no argument, and watched Javier’s pupils visibly dilate in reaction to his words.

“Dios mio, Yuzu...”, he groaned, somewhere between a chuckle and a sob, pressing his forehead against Yuzuru’s shoulder, defeated.

Yuzuru opened his legs and drew Javier in. He took the bottle of lube and made Javier watch as he opened himself on his fingers, slowly, as if they had all the time in the world, and the earth might as well stop moving for a while to accommodate them.

Javier watched him with increasing hunger, his earlier protests forgotten. He moaned together with Yuzuru, when the latter twitched and arched slightly off the bed, in reaction to his own ministrations.

“It feels good, yeah?” Javier spoke, voice hushed and rough, his eyes darting from Yuzuru’s fingers to his face, and back again, avidly.

“Mmmm, yeah”, Yuzuru answered, a little louder than necessary, enjoying the attention.

Javier bit his lower lip, torn between wanting to keep watching and wanting to take over himself.

The decision was made for him when Yuzuru pulled out his own fingers and reached for Javier’s cock.

“I’m ready now – come on, Javi. _Come on_.”

There was an unspoken challenge in Yuzuru’s eyes, but Javier, strung out as he was, decided not to answer it for once. Whether it was concern for Yuzuru’s well-being tomorrow during the free skate, or maybe there was something between them that night, something too tender and fragile for words. But whatever it was, it made Javier stop just short of thrusting hard and fast, with his usual impetuous urgency, which Yuzuru always seemed hellbent on goading him into. Instead, Javier claimed Yuzuru with agonizing slowness, letting him feel little by little the hard flesh impaling him.

“Do you like it like this?” Javier asked, keeping the slow pace.

“I don’t know”, Yuzuru answered honestly. “It’s new. I like it but - it makes me feel strange.”

“Strange how?” Javier hummed, as he bent his head to mouth at Yuzuru’s nipples, coating them with saliva and tugging at the little nubs.

Yuzuru arched off the bed sharply, with a whine.

“Like it’s too much,” he panted.

Javier smiled against his skin, as he moved to trail wet kisses up Yuzuru’s neck.

“For me it feels that only now I truly have you”, he whispered, and Yuzuru shivered.

Javier pulled back slightly and their eyes met – it was a little like their look when they almost knocked each other out during practice, struck with a sense of the unexpected, abruptly made aware of each other in a way they haven’t been before.

Javier brushed the hair from Yuzuru’s forehead almost reverently, and kissed him passionately, as he thrust deep inside him. Yuzuru’s legs tightened fiercely around Javier’s hips, as if wanting to coax him in even deeper. Drinking in each other’s moans, pulling back only to breathe, their gazes fixed on each other, they continued to move together. Yuzuru felt like he lost all sense of awareness of himself, and insofar as he existed in those moments, he was like an extension of Javier, melting into him as he was being inexorably claimed. It was a relief to stop existing as an independent entity for a short while, to have no more awareness than a pulsing light, withdrawing and receding in the steady rhythm of Javier’s thrusts, as pleasure flared and ebbed inside him like a tide.   

Before Yuzuru’s eyes, hooded and glazed with pleasure, Javier’s features lost focus, blending into the whiteness of the ceiling, as stars exploded in his field of vision, and he finally closed them, overwhelmed. In the aftermath, as Yuzuru gradually regained some ability to think, it struck him that this state of complete bliss and dissociation was what he had been aiming to achieve by his forays into bdsm, except Javier never really got the hang of those. And now.... - his thoughts drifted, as he already felt sleep advance on him quickly - and now.... when he least expected it.... Javier had surprised him. Yes, Javier had surprised him _so good_.

Javier returned from the bathroom with wet towels, for some perfunctory cleaning. A shower would have to wait until morning, as they were both too exhausted. Yuzuru blinked sleepily up at him, giggling when Javier tickled him halfheartedly. Yuzuru aimed a kick at Javier with his foot, and Javier caught it and pressed a kiss to Yuzuru’s bruised ankle. Then he threw the towels to the floor and climbed back into bed, spooning Yuzuru with a happy sigh. Yuzuru turned in Javier’s arms and wrapped himself around him like an octopus. Pressing his nose against Javier’s neck, Yuzuru inhaled deeply.

Javier sighed.

“Yuzu”, he said, simply. “Yuzu.”

It was enough, the sound of his name from Javier’s lips was more than enough. It described Yuzuru perfectly, and everything between them and the things Javier couldn’t say, and they were also an encouragement and a profession of faith and trust. ‘Yusu’, Javier whispered, and Yuzuru heard ‘You’re beautiful, I love you, the quad sal is yours forever, I’m _yours forever_.’

Before he fell into a deep sleep, Yuzuru remembered his mother’s words: “Everything in the world is fragile and beautiful.”

 

~

When they both woke up late the following morning, they took a shower together, letting the warm water soothe their aching muscles, as they lavished soft kisses on each other’s skin. They had missed breakfast, and the morning practice, but Yuzuru called his mother and asked her to speak to reception and have something sent up to them, and soon they were sharing a cozy continental breakfast, bread rolls with butter and jam, with tea for him and coffee for Javier.

“Is this okay for you?” Javier inquired, pointing to the food. “I thought you followed a strict diet.”

Yuzuru shrugged and licked off a bit of raspberry jam from the back of his spoon ostentatiously, and Javier’s eyes twinkled with amusement.

They finally turned on their phones, to see several missed calls and hysterical messages from Brian.

Yuzuru laughed, imagining Brian’s face as neither of his students showed up for practice. At one point the messages had stopped, suggesting that he probably called Yuzuru’s mother who told him to leave the boys alone for now. Thinking of the competition that would take place in only a few short hours, Yuzuru realized he felt excited at the prospect of stepping on the ice. Yesterday’s failure seemed anchored far away in a distant past – today was a new kingdom, going by new rules.

Yuzuru realized by glancing at Javier that the latter didn’t share his optimism – he seemed anxious at having missed morning practice.

“It’s only that I’ve never missed it before, the practice for the free skate is very important,” Javier frowned.

Yuzuru felt like he should relate, especially since he was usually the one never straying from his rituals, but for some strange reason, today he felt unusually relaxed and unbothered.

“I never eat jam with artificial sweeteners either, but today I did”, he offered.

Javier smiled nervously, and Yuzuru felt like he should reassure him:

“Your short program was amazing, by the way, I wanted to tell you. You look in top form.”

Javier exhaled, as if trying to dispel his nerves.

“Thank you. Well, whatever will be, will be. Good luck, Yuzu.”

“Good luck, Javi”, Yuzuru replied, and they shook hands, affectionately but already starting to think of their performance ahead of them.

 

~

Yuzuru stepped on the ice, took a deep breath, and lowered his arms. Parting his lips slightly, he felt all the last remains of his tension leave him and a sense of gentle calm descend upon him. He started the opening movement, as if immersed in a waking dream.

And there it was – the thing he was always on the verge of capturing with this program, but somehow never managed it before – serenity.

For once not trying to give chase, for once at peace with who and what he was, in that moment in time. He was Yuzuru Hanyu, and he had learned so much from everyone. And now he would give it back. He would shine brightly for all the world to see. Hope and Legacy. _This is who I am,_ he thought, but there was no vanity in the sudden awareness, only humility and an overwhelming sense of being suspended in time, like a pure crystal of ice, reflecting the light it captured. _Everything in the world is fragile and beautiful._ He was both a witness and a messenger, a receptacle and a reflector – preserving the beauty of the world close to his own fragile heart. And now Yuzuru finally understood the program he must skate, and how he must skate it, with humility and serenity, like a nymph turned into a river, forgoing worldly pursuits to be a guardian of the lands it crosses.

 

At the end, he didn’t remember much.

There was the roar of the crowd.

The feeling of triumph.

People embracing him, with love, with awe, with pride – Brian, Tracy, Javi, Stephane...

His mother, laughing at him from the audience, and nodding, like she had expected no less of him.

Something of great significance had happened, but how, and why? And how to repeat it?

In that moment, all Yuzuru’s thoughts converged into a single one: His life from now on must be dedicated to recreating and capturing such moments of crystallized perfection suspended in time for an instant of splendour, before passing into legend. From now on, nothing any less could possibly satisfy him.


End file.
